Bake a Load Off
by Weavillain
Summary: The Fashion Club's bake sale is but a few months away, and Leni is looking forward to taking part it in. The only problem is, she can't bake to save her life. Even though it's a tall order to fill, Leni is dead set on improving herself in time.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A short while ago,it dawned on me that out of the year-plus that I've been writing _The Loud House_ fanfiction, the one Loud sibling I haven't written extensively on (besides Lily) is Leni. This story is here to remedy that. I can't promise it'll be the best Leni fanfiction ever, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, am I right?

Although, now I think about it, this could be considered as more of a Leni & Lori fic with a few dashes of Luan thrown into the mix. Oh well. I'm sure no one's going to bother nitpicking about semantics. Anyway, pardon me for the grammatical errors. I'll be coming around to dealing with them later, but I just wanted to have this posted after the three proofreading sessions I did.

* * *

"Woah!"

Luan Loud was _not_ prepared for this. At all.

By all means, walking into the kitchen—in order to help herself to a popsicle, to help cool off in the heat of the warm Spring weekend afternoon—should've been as mundane and uneventful as a walk in the park...or, heck, a walk to the kitchen. But alas, what she happened to come across was anything but mundane and most certainly anything but uneventful.

Well, okay, it was uneventful _now_ , but Luan knew that there was no way that it was uneventful minutes prior to the kitchen being in _absolute shambles_.

The formerly pristine tile floor was marred with slimy egg yolks and stains of colorful puddles of runny goop, most of which were either a sickly shade of green or a blend of orange and brownish tints. Empty boxes and cans complimented the assortment of disarray, along with full, swollen trash bags that looked just about ready to burst.

The ceiling wasn't that much better off—along with stains of the same discernment as those sticking to the floor, thick cakes of yellow batter clung to the surface precariously, threatening to plop off at any second.

Tower upon tower of dirty platters stacked in and around the sink, creating a structure that nearly resembled the outer wall of a medieval castle…a pillaged, war-torn castle.

The oven had definitely seen better days; a blanket of flour dusted the surface of the door, imprints of hands slapped into the white soot. Slews of zigzags—ketchup, mustard, and hot fudge(?)—slathered across the stove, dabbing the stainless steel with wild, haphazard precision.

But all those observations failed to capture Luan's attention like the one that greeted her in the middle of the culinary warzone.

Sitting on her rear, her body rocked slightly to and fro, was Leni—a large, grease-stained pot gracelessly strapped over her head, allowing her pained moans to echo within the confinement. By a stroke of either sheer luck or divine mercy, none of her clothes appeared to be targets of the kitchen's vandalism, but Luan didn't allow that fortune to keep her from rushing to Leni's side, heedless to the spills that could've caused her to slip and fall—a fitting dose of karma for the girl who loved to catch her family unawares with a banana peel or two.

"Leni, are you okay?!" Luan cried, coming to a stop once she closed in on her dazed sister.

While waiting for a response, one that Luan hoped was an earnest report of no injury or unbearable discomfort, she gave Leni some semblance of dignity by lifting the pot off her head. Her worries of a battered-looking Leni were broken upon seeing her face—though her eyes with a little glazed over, her face was free of any bumps, cuts, or scrapes. Even her sunglasses, though a bit askew on top of Leni's pale blonde locks, weren't chipped, bent, or scratched in the slightest.

Thankfully, it only took a few seconds for Leni to snap out of her faraway look as her eyes rolled up and fixed on her pun-spouting little sister.

She cracked a weak smile at her, ignoring the slight tug of pain from the contortions her face made in the process. "Oh, hey, Luan."

"Are you okay?" Luan asked again for good measure as she sat the pot off to the side.

Leni nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I think I bruised my tailbone," she said, rubbing her shoulder with one hand.

She began to stand up gingerly, but stopped halfway up—pausing as she was hunched over and bent at the knees. "And my spleen," she groaned as she clutched her left thigh.

Driving away the temptation to correct her on her anatomy—as well as the temptation to call her out on the sincerity of her insisting that she was fine—Luan draped one of Leni's arms around her shoulders, assisted her in walking over to the kitchen table, and sat her down on the only chair that wasn't knocked on its side. Before Luan stepped back, she made sure to brush off some of the stray specks of crumbs that clung on Leni's dress.

"Anyway, what happened to you?" Luan asked and took a minute to once again, survey the carnage that surrounded them. "And why does the kitchen look like a tornado just came through here?"

And then, that's when _it_ hit her—another spark of comedic genius that made her grin, revealing the shiny braces which gleamed with less luster than her latest joke.

"If one did, then it's too bad that you didn't _catch wind_ of it!" Luan cried, letting out a rally of belly laughs, not forgetting to sign off the pun with her signature finish. "Get it?"

When Leni groaned, Luan just chuckled.

"Ah, come on! That was funny!" Luan insisted mirthfully.

The fashionista simply groaned again and pointed at her temples. "No, not _that_ ," she said, gritting her teeth. "I think my wrist got banged up too."

Deciding to get back on track, Luan resumed where her _totally_ obligatory pun cut her off.

"So yeah, you were about to tell me about why the kitchen's a complete mess…" she began, trailing off to allow Leni to fit the rest of the pieces of the puzzle together.

"I'll tell you," Leni said, "but do you mind helping me clean up before I do that? I don't want Mom and Dad coming back to the kitchen looking like this."

Luan looked at her incredulously, wondering if Leni was sure she was prepared for what she was asking for.

"Seriously?" Luan asked, heeding the less than ideal state that Leni was in. "You sure you can manage?"

"I'll be fine," Leni said, offering a smile as a sign of her dedication.

Luan shook her head and sighed. Although she was willing to give Leni a hand, she still couldn't help but feel that she was roped into this, and her new commitment was a far cry from her objective from four minutes ago.

A cherry popsicle; was having one really too much to ask?

Fate gave her the answer when an overhanging icicle of batter suddenly dribbled off the ceiling and landed on top of her head. Leni's muffled giggles did _not_ make the ordeal the least amusing.

* * *

Working together, the girls managed to get the kitchen looking spotless in about an hour. It wasn't what Leni could call a happy experience, but at least with most of the family out and about, the probability of anyone _else_ discovering the kitchen in all its "disorderly glory" was severely low, and she was happy that that was what wound up happening.

Through it all, though her body was racked with little tendrils of pain, Leni made sure that she'd do most of the heavy lifting. After all, this mess was her fault, and Luan didn't deserve to have the remainder her Saturday scrubbing out stains off the floor and ceiling—not that it stopped her from asking for Luan's assistance in the first place, though. Leni promised herself that her I.O.U. to Luan would more than make up for her selfishness, and the first part of that would be to give Luan what she had asked for earlier.

With the conversation in the living room, the sisters resting comfortably on the couch, Leni turned to Luan and said, "Yeah, so the thing is, I'm trying to get better at baking."

Though Leni had stated as much as plainly and clearly as she thought anything could come across, Luan looked back at her with the sort of incredulity that Leni felt was appropriate for what she had just said; she was a little hurt to see such timid confusion from her little sister, but that kind of reaction wasn't what she could call unreasonable, given her "track record" and her latest addition to said "track record".

"Why?" Luan asked, trying but failing to mask her uncertainty in her sister's ambitions.

Leni heaved a mournful sigh and slumped in her seat. "The Fashion Club's hosting a bake sale in two months. We're trying to raise money for more supplies and fabrics. And, like, everyone else is participating except for me, and the only reason why I'm not is because I'm not a good baker."

It was bad enough to _think_ it, but saying it out loud was even worse. After all, it wasn't like anyone was going to object to what she was saying to make her feel better—such was a principle that a certain eavesdropping interloper of their conversation was keen on keeping.

"I'll say," came the voice of Lori, who had made it down the stairs just before Leni's last sentence and had listened intently to every word.

Drained from self-pity, Leni only had the strength to tilt her head up in the direction of the voice and gaze sullenly at her older sister. Luan's movements were more spirited; along with looking towards Lori, she donned a frown in defiance to the blunt tone of her agreement. Lori just rolled her eyes at the glare and focused on Leni.

"Leni, what do you think you're doing?" Lori asked, her disapproval on full display with her scowl and folded arms. "Trying to practice in time for a bake sale? You can't be serious. The last time you tried to bake a cake, you confused laundry detergent powder for sugar. _Remember_?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

Those were the only three words that Leni's pride allowed her to utter before her lips clamped shut and her head bowed. Besides the sternness of her parent's discipline, Lola's bouts of unrelenting vengeance, and the prospect of trying on flatform sandals, there was nothing in the world more intimidating to her than a hard glare from Lori, especially when it was justified by the truth that would sometimes compliment that expression.

Though her eyes had drawn away from her authoritative figure, she could practically feel Lori's presence drawing closer to her, the invisible chill of her aura making her curl up even further and squirm.

"Remember the cupcake incident?" Lori asked, her tone as berating as ever. "You broke _several_ cups and tried to make cupcakes out of them because you literally thought that the recipe called for it."

As if that wasn't enough, Lori felt that it was upon herself to drag Leni further down memory lane, down paths that Leni had already crossed more than once while she was baking earlier. But at least she had the dignity of holding her head high against the self-doubt that the self-reflection had done. This time, Lori was dragging her along by the ear, as if she were a child being scolded, and she didn't have the fight in her to think that she deserved better.

After all, it wasn't as if Lori was wrong.

"And don't even get me started on the muffin mishap," Lori reminded, who, by now, was only standing about a foot away from Leni. "Poor Lola hasn't been able to do so much as _look_ at a muffin without feeling sick since she ate one of yours."

There was hint of satisfaction in her tone that time around, as if Lori was empowered by both the thrill of being in the right and the fact that the recipient of her declaration was too cowed to stop her. The most it did was make Leni's fingers flinch, ready to ball into fists.

"And those were your _most_ successful attempts," Lori continued. "When you're _not_ so lucky, you just make a giant mess and waste food for nothing. Trust me, Leni, this bake sale is something you ought to just avoid altogether. I mean, it's only a matter of time before you-"

"Enough already!"

Leni jumped, the booming voice scrambling her inner thoughts into mush. She jerked her head up and was flabbergasted by what she found; in the muck of her self-pity, she had forgotten that Luan was with her the whole time, and she evidently had heard just about enough from Lori by the looks of things.

Why else would she be up in her face, face scrunched up in a glower, and her cheeks burned in anger?

"Why're you picking on Leni?!" Luan shouted. "She's just trying to help her club, you jerk! You don't have to make her feel bad!"

It was all Luan could do not to snarl like an angry, rabid dog at the way Lori reacted to her righteous indignation with nothing more than a scoff and another roll of her eyes.

"Okay, cool your jets, Luan," Lori said with infuriating calmness. "I'm not 'picking on' anyone. If anything, I'm _helping_. Besides, it's not like _you_ think she's a good baker, either."

 _That_ got Luan to shut up. Her lividness crumbled under the crushing weight of shame and instead of anger, remorse fueled her reddened face.

"Well, I…I…uh…" Luan stammered weakly, unable to make a retort.

Lori brushed passed her, walking up to Leni until she was right in front of her. Leni didn't look away this time, though, as she could make out the glimmer of compassion in her eyes, and found it oddly comforting despite her indignity.

"Look, Leni, everyone has something that they're good at, and everyone has something that they're bad at. For you, that something is baking, and I shouldn't be telling you otherwise. If you _really_ want to help with the bake sale, just stick to making signs for it or something; literally anything else but baking. If you try to push your luck, you'll just mess up for everyone and the fashion club will hate your guts for it."

A horrible thought entered Leni's mind, and it made gasp and wrap her arms protectively around her waist.

"But I like my guts!" Leni cried. She, like, needed those for food!

"I like 'em too," Lori replied. "That's why you should just give up practicing altogether. I know it hurts to hear this, but it's better that _I_ be the messenger, rather than the people who get sick from eating your food."

At the thought of food, Lori broke away from the pair, and announced her intentions with, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are some carrot chips with my name on it. If I'm getting my proper antioxidant intake, they might as well be in chip form."

Between Lori grabbing her snack and heading back upstairs, Luan was the only one who made any movement. Though she was still a bit frazzled from being put in check, that didn't stop her from sliding next to Leni and placing her hand on her knee in a gesture of comfort. Luan spoke once Lori had left them, and she was sure that she wouldn't return to instigate any further trouble.

"You okay?" Luan asked.

"Yeah," Leni said, a tug at the corner of her lips that could hardly be called a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Luan frowned at the obvious lie. "No, you're not. Look, don't listen to Lori, okay? She's wrong."

"But she said that I-"

She stopped when the grip on her knee clamped on a little firmer and took that as a sign that Luan wanted the floor again.

"Okay, so maybe your baking skills aren't all that great," Luan admitted, "but practice makes perfect. Don't let her discourage you. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day."

Leni didn't know what ancient civilizations had to do about baking, which made Luan's analogy a mystery to her and one that didn't lift her spirits.

"Yeah, but _desserts_ have been made in less than a day, and I can't manage to do that," Leni replied sadly after letting out a sigh. "My soufflés? My crepes? My puddings? They always come out looking worse than zebra print tops. Maybe Lori's right. Maybe I should just qui-"

"No."

Leni gave her sister a pointed look. "Luan, that was totes rude. I wasn't finished moping yet," she scolded.

Luan just smirked at the reaction; it was better than Leni moping around.

"Good," she said, "and you'd better be finished on quitting too. Even if you don't think you can be all that and a bag of chips at baking, you still want to help with the bake sale, don't you?"

And just like that, the objective behind Leni's pursuit was back in her focus. Her vision was enough to make a real smile grace her face.

"Uh-huh," Leni said. "I wanna do my fair share and help. And besides that, I like the way my tummy feels after I eat something really sweet; it makes me feel…really happy and cozy. I wanna give back that same feeling to others for a change."

Luan's hands moved from Leni's knee to her shoulder, which she gave an encouraging squeeze.

"Then you shouldn't give up," she told her. "You have two whole months before the bake sale. _That's_ plenty of time to learn how to bake. Besides, you learned how to drive in less than that time, and last time I checked, learning how to drive is way harder than baking. What'd you have to lose with more practice?"

Unlike that spiel about Rome, the fact that she had two months to get better was a comforting thought. Heck, it was the reason why she thought that trying her hand at baking was worth it in the first place. But then, Lori had to come along and be so gosh darn convincing. Like, she was a genius, after all. Lori was so smart, always telling her the ways of the world and whatnot. Who else would know if she was in over her head _but_ Lori?

"I mean, I guess, but I've barely made any progress," Leni said with a shrug. "Like, I _just_ got around to realizing that the flour you use for baking _isn't_ the kind you find in Mom's flower garden. How am I supposed to be good enough in time for the bake sale?"

How could she? All she had to do was look at what she had done to the kitchen earlier to know that she truly was in over her head. And she had done all that damage by herself. By herself, she was nothing more than a…than a…hang on a second. Her head was doing that thing again, that tingly feeling it got when her brain start to… _blink_ and then she'd know just what to do. Yeah, it was happening, and Leni felt herself trembling with excitement.

"Unless…" Leni said, swelling with joy. "I get someone to help me!"

It was Luan's turn to get pumped. "Yeah!" she said, hopping to her feet. "That's a great idea!"

"You think so?!"

"I know so!"

"Really?!"

"Yeah, really!"

"Great! So, you'll help me?!"

"Uh-huh! You bet I wi- _woah_ , _woah_ , _woah_! _Hooooooold_ _up_!" Luan shouted, putting her arms out and waving them about frantically. "Me?! Why _me_?!"

Leni, not taking the hint of Luan's obvious apprehension, replied as if nothing was amiss. "Because you're a really good baker. Like, you make the yummiest pies ever. I should know; you throw them at my face all the time."

Leni's praise had only knocked down Luan's trepidation by about a notch. She truly was honored to have one of her older siblings rely on her, but the sibling in question was none other than Leni.

Bless her heart; as kind as she was, Leni was what one could call a…vexing learner at times, and that was putting it mildly. While Luan truly meant every word of what she said about Leni picking up on baking with practice, Leni's proposal meant that she would have to put up with Leni's…for a lack of a better term, annoying habit of making the teaching process difficult with her tendencies to steer the lesson off course. It wasn't like she _meant_ to do it, sure, but that didn't mean Luan wanted her patience to endure all of that for, give or take, two whole months!

"I mean, Leni, look, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, but I mean…" Luan said, trying to drum up an excuse or two that would buy her out of this. "I-it's just that, I've got _sooooooo_ many comedy routines to whip up. And, uh, I have to stay on top of all the bookings I'm getting for _Funny Business, Inc._ Oh, and Gary? What would the poor guy do without me? I can't leave his side for one second witho-oh, come _on_!"

This was _not_ fair! Leni had done the one thing that even those with hearts of ice couldn't resist; the puppy dog face. Besides Lily, Leni was the most effective user of such a drastic tactic—she didn't even have to _try_ to look so vulnerable and cute and… _gaaaaaaah_!

Luan shut her eyes and begged, "Okay, okay, okay, I'll help, I'll help! Just stop doing that already!"

Leni cheered and stood up to hug her sister tight. Luan just grumbled under her breath; Leni and that cursed pouty lip had won the day… _again_.

"You can be pretty evil when you wanna be, you know that?" Luan complained as Leni continued to smother her like there was no tomorrow.

It wasn't a fair accusation, though Luan couldn't help but complain anyway. It wasn't like Leni was _trying_ to coerce her; that was just her natural expression whenever she felt mopey and sad.

"What'd you mean?" Leni asked.

Though the question was innocent, her tiny smirk was anything but.

* * *

It took around half an hour for Luan to prepare everything needed for her baking lesson. The sisters were back in the kitchen, standing in front of the oven. On the counter were some baking utensils, a few of the ingredients that had survived Leni's bake-pocalypse, and a recipe that Luan had printed out.

"Okay, Leni, if you want to know how to bake, we should start off with something easy, and then we can work our way up from there," Luan said matter-of-factly. "That's why I figured that we'd start off with making brownies."

Leni, who had been somewhat in the dark about Luan's plan up until this point, shot her a look of objection.

"Hold on, you're not gonna use instant brownie mix, are you?" Leni asked. "If you are, don't; it's _such_ a rip-off. Like, this one time, I opened a packet for some and instead of brownies, all this yucky brown powder came out."

Luan was too stricken with exasperation to find her grievance funny; _this_ was precisely why she didn't want to do this in the first place.

"No, Leni, we're _not_ using instant brownie mix," Luan said. "That would defeat the whole purpose of what we're doing anyway; we're making these brownies from scratch."

Luan left Leni's side after that and returned a few second later with the recipe in one hand.

"Now then, we'll be using this recipe that I printed online, so we'll know exactly what to do first," Luan said and motioned over to the assortment of ingredients and tools with her other hand. "As you can see, I've got all the ingredients and cooking utensils we need. So, just watch what I do carefully, and then I'll let you bake some brownies of your own after I'm done."

Taking Luan's advice to heart, Leni scooched up closer until their bodies were pressed together, side-to-side. Then, she leaned down, stopping just before the side of her face could be nuzzled up to Luan's.

"Uh…not that close, Leni," Luan replied, gently nudging Leni a few inches out of her personal space..

Turning her attention to the oven, Luan turned the temperature knob and stopped at the destination she wanted.

"First, we preheat the oven to 325°F," Luan said.

Leni regarded Luan's actions with uncertainty. "Why're we doing that?" she asked.

She might not have known much about baking, but even _she_ knew that it didn't make much sense to make the oven hot if there was nothing in there.

"It's so the batter has a chance to bake," Luan replied. "And if we do it _before_ we start, then we can just take our batter and put it in the oven, which'll be hot enough to let the batter bake right away."

"Ooooooooh," Leni said, coming around to understanding Luan's logic.

The only other thing she that she didn't get was why Luan had only set the temperature to 325°F. She always had it to its highest temperature; the hotter the oven, the faster the food would bake, right? Well, whatever. Luan was in charge, so she wasn't going to rock the boat, especially without a life preserver on hand.

"Next," Luan said after putting the recipe off to the side, "we line the baking pan with foil."

As she watched her sister go to work doing just that, Leni couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed by this new nugget of information. Foil? She had never used that stuff before. Like, what could the point of that be? She just threw whatever she wanted to bake in the pan and threw it in the oven, nice and neat. Though she couldn't wrap her head around the practical use of tin foil, again, she trusted Luan enough to do nothing more than ask questions if she felt it necessary.

The sound of rushing water broke Leni out of her mulling and diverted her attention to Luan, who was letting sink water pour into a saucepan.

"Now to add a little bit of water to this saucepan and heat it up until the water starts to simmer," Luan said and walked back over to the oven slide it over one of the heated tops, something that Leni had to admit that Luan had done for the few seconds she was zoned out. "We're gonna be using the water to make our batter warm once we whip it up."

With the pre-baking steps all wrapped up, Luan walked over to the pile of utensils and ingredients, eager to get started with the meat of the work.

"And now," she continued, "while we wait for the water to heat up, we can get on with the brownie batter."

But before Luan could make a move for the cocoa powder, Leni grabbed her by the wrist

"Wait a second…" Leni said dubiously, staring at the ingredients with narrowed eyes.

Something…something wasn't adding up here. She promised herself that she would try not to butt in and simply allow Luan to teach her, but this set-up was feeling way too familiar to what _she_ would do with _her_ baking attempts.

Apparently, dumping flour, sugar, eggs, and whatever else into a bowl, furiously stirring it about, pouring the mixture into a pan, and throwing it in the oven didn't work. But if that was true, and they were supposed to have brownie batter on hand, then where was it? How were some eggs, a stick of butter, sugar, kosher salt, and flour supposed to make batter if mixing everything together couldn't do the trick before?

"This doesn't look like brownie batter at all," Leni said. "You must've gotten ripped off with a bad recipe, Luan."

Luan groaned, resisting the urge to facepalm. "No, Leni, I-"

"I hate it when that happens, but it just goes to show that you can't trust everything you read on the Internet."

"Leni…"

"Like, this one time, I was trying to get these cute pumps online, since they were thirty percent off— which is great, since I have small feet."

"Leni…"

"But when I got them, they weren't thirty percent smaller at all. Or at least, I don't _think_ they were. Maybe, like, fifteen percent or-"

" _ **LENI!**_ "

Luan—who was red in the face, seething, and panting after her outburst—bore holes at her sister with a glower.

Leni, unfazed by the shout and the glare, just furrowed her brow in a wrinkle. "Geez, Luan, you don't have to shout. I'm right here."

* * *

Mercifully, the next few minutes were less stressful for Luan. After explaining and demonstrating how the brownie batter was made, Leni had simply nodded and followed along with her instruction. But now, it was time for the next part. Now that five minutes had passed, since the batter in their designated bowl had cooled after pulling it off the saucepan of hot water, Luan moved on.

Taking a measuring cup, she filled it to the ½ cup mark with flour and poured the contents over the dark brown batter. Next, she added a teaspoon of vanilla extract and two eggs. Leni marveled at the ease in which Luan expertly added the yolks to the mix; she knew that the eggshells weren't edible, but she didn't know how to separate the yolk from the shell and thought that she'd have to grin and bear with the whole egg.

She had no idea it was that easy—cracking the egg open on the side of the bowl and letting the contents shimmy in! Luan really _was_ a genius!

"Now that our batter is pretty much done," Luan said after turning to her observant, awestruck sister, "all that's left is to beat it before we pour it in the pan and pop it in the oven."

Leni shrugged. Well, if that's what the recipe wanted…

Taking a few steps away from Luan, Leni furled her face in a battle-hardened visage, shifted her body in the best southpaw boxer's stance she could, and began to swiftly jab at the air, hitting imaginary targets with each throw of her fist and feeling more invigorated as she went along:

Icky spiders? * _BAM!*_

Itchy clothing tags? * _POW!*_

Early closing times at the mall? * _TWHACK!*_

Confounded by Leni's…whatever _that_ was supposed to be, Luan approached Leni, stopping just out of her hitting range.

"What're you doing?" Luan asked.

Leni allowed her eyes to wander up for a fraction of a second before she looked ahead of her again. "I'm getting myself in the zone; if I'm gonna beat this batter down, I have to get psyched up for it," she said with a determined grin.

Luan, not in the mood to get in Leni's way, just sighed and waited for Leni's little "psyche up" to be over with. At this point, it didn't matter _what_ it was that helped Leni stay focused on her task; as long as she didn't do anything dramatically catastrophic or hinder the baking in anyway, she could book a flight to Timbuktu for all she cared.

Yep, just as long as Leni didn't do anything that could-

"Hey!"

Luan sprang into action in a hurry, swiping the bowl of batter away from Leni's incoming fist. Having taken her eyes off her for just a second, she missed Leni striding over towards the bowl and cocking her arm back for a punch. Mercifully, Leni was able to stop herself from launching her fist into the edge of the kitchen counter, but she was still a little annoyed that Luan had gotten in her way.

"Okay, so, what the _heck_ do you think you're doing?" Luan asked in a measured tone, trying _very_ hard not to yell again.

Leni gave Luan a pointed look. "I'm trying to beat the batter, Luan," she said.

Like, didn't she _just_ say that they needed to do that? What was her problem?

Luan growled and took deep breaths before she corrected her. "That's _not_ what beating the batter means," she said. "It just means that you're mixing the batter really hard and fast to fill it with air."

Leni rubbed the back of her neck and whispered out a muttered apology while Luan picked up a whisk, still clearly a little riled up.

"Ordinarily, you use a wooden spoon," Luan said, "but we'll be using this a whisk to make the job easier."

With that, Leni watched on as Luan sunk the whisk into the batter, and stirred up the chunky batter. After a few strokes, the colors of the egg yolks, vanilla extract, and flour melded into the dark brown goopy batter, turning the mixture into a lighter shade of brown.

"See? Now, you give it a whirl," Luan said, passing off the bowl to Leni.

Though she was still a little ashamed at being snippy with Luan, Leni was pleased with this opportunity—she could prove that she was worth Luan's time by completing this simple task! She'd be the best stirrer that ever stirred!

Grabbing the whisk's handle, Leni went to work, her rotations paced at a slow rate before bit by bit, she picked up in speed. By as little as five seconds in, Leni's stirring arm was a blur of velocity, churning the batter as fast and as efficiently as she thought anyone had ever-

 _*splat*_

Leni halted, her limbs locked in a stasis. Gulping, she looked over at where the noise had landed...

…and found a thick, blanket of drippy batter smeared across Luan's face. To her credit, she did nothing more than glare off in the distance, not once looking at Leni's sheepish, apologetic face.

"Um…oops?" Leni muttered.

"It's okay, Leni," Luan said, though her stone-face told Leni that she was far from okay. "It's okay."

* * *

After cleaning up her second kitchen-related mess of the day, Luan was relieved that they had arrived at the last and easiest step, besides the preheating—sliding the batter-filled bake pan into the oven and waiting.

Waiting; how bad could _that_ be?

"And now, we wait for about twenty minutes until the batter is done baking, and we got our brownies!" Luan exclaimed.

"Yippee!" Leni cheered, clapping excitedly.

Luan felt as light as a balloon; with the heavy lifting done and over with, all she had to do was bequeath Leni with some more practical baking know-how.

"Now, it's important not to get distracted while you wait, or else the food you're trying to bake will burn," Luan stated in an informative tone. "That's why it's important to…Leni?"

Luan, too absorbed in her monologue to notice until now, looked up and saw Leni looking at both of her fingernails.

Luan grumbled to herself. She could _not_ be serious…

"Leni?" Luan asked, shaking Leni a bit.

Leni was shaken out of her focus. "Huh?" she blurted out.

"What're you doing?"

Leni held up her fingernails up close to Luan's face. "I was just looking at my nails; I think the polish is starting to fade a little."

Luan pushed her hands out of the way, revealing her stern look to the fashionista. "Did you pay attention to _anything_ I just said?"

Leni nodded. "Yeah. I was totes listening."

"Then what did I tell you?"

"Something about penguins, right?"

Leni jumped back at sharp, smacking sound that Luan's facepalm made.

" _Nooooo_ ," Luan groaned after putting her facepalming hand back at her side. "I was just telling you to pay attention to the time when you're… _ **LENI!**_ "

Once again, Leni had diverted her focus back to her nails, looking at them with disapproval. Immediately after Luan had snapped at her, Leni looked back at her with mild annoyance.

"Luan, what did I tell you about shouting to get my attention?" she scolded lightly. "I'm right here. There's no need for it."

Not looking for an argument, Luan pushed her comment aside and said, "Look, just wait here for twenty minutes, okay?"

Leni frowned in puzzlement. "But why?"

" _ **FOR THE BROW**_ …" Luan paused and took several, ragged breaths through her nose before she replied with a calmer, though transparently wound-up tone. "For the brownies, Leni. We have to wait twenty minutes until they're ready."

"Ready for what? Prom?" Leni asked with a shrug.

"To _eat_ , Leni. To _eat_."

Leni chuckled and wagged her finger at Luan in light reprimand. "You can't _eat_ a prom, Luan."

* * *

After a record-breaking fourteen minutes of screaming her head off into one of the couch cushions, a calmer Luan returned to the kitchen once the timer on her phone had rung, indicating that twenty minutes were up. Leni, who was still in the kitchen and looking at her nails, didn't notice her sister's presence until she had accidentally bumped into her while she bent down and opened the oven.

To say that the drifting smell of baked brownies made Leni spellbound was a complete understatement. Compared to the yucky odors she had been whipping up earlier with her baking disasters, those brownies smelled like _heaven_.

" _Woooooow_ ," Leni sighed dazedly, drop of droll dripping out of her open mouth.

Though Leni wasn't exactly Luan's best friend right now, the comedienne couldn't help but feel a little pride in getting that kind of reaction from her, especially since brownies weren't exactly her specialty and this was her first crack at a recipe that she hadn't even thought twice about using for her lesson.

"And we're done!" Luan said as she used oven mitts to grab that baking pan. She placed it on top of the stove and muttered, all her vexation poured into the remark, "Finally."

"Huh? Did you say something, Luan?"

Luan flinched and shook her head. "N-nothing!" she stammered.

More waiting ensued as the girls waited for the brownies to cool. Once Luan felt that enough time had passed, she cut a corner piece of the baked good and gave Leni permission to try it. Leni, who was _totes_ dying to taste that chocolatey, fudgy goodness, accepted the invitation at once and chomped her brownie piece down with one bite.

"Well, what'd you think?" Luan asked, already having a good idea with the pleased faces that Leni was making as she chewed and swallowed.

Oh, and those squeals of joy were a pretty big hint too.

"This is an awesome brownie, Luan!" Leni exclaimed after the last brownie chunk slid down her throat. "The best I've ever tasted!" she added before she gulped down the other piece of the brownie even faster than the first.

Luan flashed her a bashful grin. "Ah, shucks. I didn't do much. I just followed the recipe, and if you want to bake brownies on your own, that's all _you_ have to do too. And if you keep at it, you'll be good enough to bake without needing to strictly follow a recipe at all."

Along with the delectable morsel of fudgy sweetness, Leni let Luan's words of encouragement digest. Despite there being a few bumps in the road (Luan's weird shouting being at the top of the list), the difficulty of baking went from the untrained eye deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphics at first glance to ordering food off a French menu; both feats would be difficult for her, but at least the latter seemed plausible in a matter of two months.

And then, Leni could learn to make _everyone's_ tummies feel all nice and tingly, just like hers was right now. Oh, how she wanted to get started with her own batch of brownies, but if Luan was wise enough to teach her how to bake in the first place, she was the one that would be able to tell if she was ready to try it herself.

And with Luan supervising her, she'd have the baking process down pat in no time!

"So, what'd you think, Luan?" Leni asked. "You think I should give baking brownies a shot?"

"Yep," Luan said with a weak nod as she walked away. "Good luck."

Leni's eyes widened as panic started to build up where eagerness had resided. "Wait," she said, her plea not enough to get Luan to comply. "You're not gonna stay and watch to see if I'm doing it right?"

Luan chuckled weakly as she continued to head for the stairs, her phony smile complimenting her facetiousness. "Naaaaaaw. You'll be fine. Trust me."

"But what if I-"

"Bye!"

Luan darted away, causing Leni to give chase.

"Luan!" she cried as she stopped at the bottom step in time to see Luan's flowing ponytail disappear around the corner. "Hold on a seco-"

"Just follow the recipe!" Luan yelled back.

Leni could only watch as she heard Luan's bedroom door slam shut, much like the door of Luan's further tutelage slamming shut in her face. She sighed sadly, trudging back towards the kitchen with some of the wind taken out of her sail. She didn't have reason to believe that she was being abandoned; Luan had the opportunity to do it before, and she stuck with her until the very end. After everything that she had taught her, Luan must've believed that Leni was ready to move on without her.

It should've felt great to know that she was ready to go to the next step, but Leni still couldn't help but feel a little unsure of herself, even with Luan's assurance.

 _Was_ she truly ready? _Was_ she prepared enough to have Luan's recipe be her one and only guide from here on out? _Was_ Luan's faith worth more than Lori's caution and her own lingering doubts?

Leni supposed she could let her anxiety stall her for two whole months, but what would _that_ accomplish? If she couldn't owe all this practice to herself, she at least owed it to Luan to make her proud of her and prove that she hadn't wasted her Saturday helping her for nothing.

With her mind made up, Leni made a beeline for that brownie recipe: she had twelve tummies to make happy in time for dinner, and Luan's would be the happiest of them all.

* * *

 **A/N:** Alrighty then, lesson learned; people _hate_ 27K+ one-shots. Since that seems to be the case, I'll be turning this former one-shot into a four-chapter piece that should be much easier to digest. If not, then I suppose I've seriously overestimated by abilities to keep an audience engaged.


	2. Chapter 2

Leni couldn't remember being _this_ antsy at dinnertime since Lana's red ant farm had gotten loose and crawled into her dress while she wasn't looking. _That_ wasn't very pleasant, but _this_ most certainly was—thanks to a little bit of convincing (the puppy dog face _with_ whimpering thrown in for good measure), Leni had been able to convince her parents to allow her to present her "masterpiece" to her family once dinner's main course was finished. Sure, it was a little sneaky and underhanded, but she felt like she had to go a little above and beyond her methods, much like she did with Luan—it'd be a shame to let the hour she spent on _her_ batch of baked goodies to go to waste just because her parents were hesitant to indulge her.

Thus, once Lynn gobbled down the last piece of turkey, Rita knew she had to act quickly to make sure no one would excuse themselves before Leni's moment of truth could come. Truthfully, neither she nor Lynn Sr. knew what it was that Leni had whipped up in the kitchen—their daughter insisted on keeping it "totes on the hush-hush" until the big reveal—but as the loser of that fated round of "nose goes" between her and her husband, the burden fell on her to be the messenger.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?" Rita asked, a bullet of a nervous sweat slipping down her forehead, down her cheek, and across the lips of her shaky grin. The anxiety gnawed once everyone's attention immediately fell upon her—not even Leni's cheery smile could soothe her frayed nerves. "I have some bad news that all of you ought to hear."

Rita's eyes widened, only catching her mistake once she saw a few of her children's faces tense up. "Good news! I-I meant 'good news'!" she corrected in a desperate scramble for preservation. "Yes, yes, yes! _Goooooooood_ news!"

Lisa wasn't buying it for a second. "A Freudian slip, perchance?"

"Don't tell me you let Lana have _another_ dumb lizard," Lola groaned. "The last thing I need is it shedding all over my gowns."

"No, she didn't," Lana retorted snidely, "but at least it'd be better than her buying you another compact mirror."

"Says you," Lola said, the terse rebuff surprisingly not sparking yet another scuffle to be added to the ever-growing anthology of "Lola vs. Lana".

Before anyone else could interject with their incorrect assumptions, Rita cut in and said, "You're both wrong. The… _good_ news is that…well, Leni's baked dessert for all of us."

…

…

…

"Yep, _definitely_ a Freudian slip," Lisa said, panic muffling the stoic tone in her voice.

"Oh no," Lola whispered, shuddering like a leaf in the wind. "Not again."

"Y'know what? I _juuuuuust_ remembered that my new power ballad needed a few adjustments," Luna said as she slid out of her chair and got to her feet, "I should head on upstairs and…" Pairs of eyes— belonging to everyone besides Leni—that said, "You're sticking together with us on this one!" made her freeze before she could shuffle away to safety.

"O-or not. That works too," Luna mumbled as she sat back down.

Leni sighed, thanking the heavens that her suspicions were nothing more than her doubts casting a horrible image over the situation—for a second there, it sounded like Luna was just making up an excuse to leave the table to get out of at least _seeing_ her hard work. Fortunately, she was dead wrong.

"Thanks for sticking around, Luna," Leni said, getting out of her seat. "I promise that you'll get the second biggest piece."

Luan would get the biggest piece, of course. Why, if not for her, then none of this would even be possible.

"Piece of what?" Luna asked.

"You'll _seeeeeeeee_ ," Leni sang and skipped to the kitchen to retrieve her latest life's work, that old jigsaw puzzle doing little to measure up to what she had in store for her loving family.

Lucy was the first to speak after Leni hadn't returned right away.

"Anyone want me to write up their last will and testament?" she asked.

"Lucy!" Lynn Sr. scolded over the quiet, muffled laughs from some of his children.

Before Lucy could tell the amused that she was being dead serious, Leni emerged from the kitchen with a sunny smile on her face and a bake pan in her hands.

"Tada!" she cried and slapped down the pan in the middle of the table for all to see.

And with that, Leni waited for the applause…

And waited…

And waited…

And waited…

And w-oh, never mind; it looked like Lincoln had something to say. Yeah, it wasn't enthusiastic clapping, but a word of encouragement would work just as fine.

But that didn't explain why Lincoln…and most of her sisters, for that matter, were acting like chameleons with the way their faces were turning a shade of green. Seriously, like, what was up with that?

"Uhhhh…" Lincoln said, looking down at the bake pan with unbridled disgust.

"Hmmmm….." Luna hummed noncommittally.

"I-interesting," Lynn stuttered.

"Sooooo…what're these supposed to be, Leni?" Lana asked, one of the few people to not look like she wanted to blow chunks.

Leni sported a proud grin. "Blackies."

The name tickled Leni—it was snappy, trendy, and an overall apt description of what she had baked.

"Blackies?" Lola asked, her hand covering her nose from the smoky scent that wafted out of the burnt dessert. And…and were those little bits of eggshells sticking out?! Lola felt herself getting dizzier with nausea by the second.

"Yeah," Leni said. "They were _supposed_ to be brownies, but came out _really_ dark for some reason. Like, after I watched a ninety-minute-long compilation of these adorable baby pandas at the zoo, when I came back to the oven to get my brownies, _these_ are what I got. But don't worry, I'm sure they're really good, even if they're not perfect. Luan showed me so much about baking today. I'd be totally lost without her and that nifty recipe of hers."

Luan shrugged in surrender when she got a few angry stares thrown her way. _'Hey, don't look at me; I never told Leni to botch the recipe like this!'_

Meanwhile, Rita knew that she could entertain this no further. None of those burnt brownies were any good for eating, and she felt like she couldn't spare her daughter's feelings _and_ everyone's safety at the same time.

"Sweetie," Rita said, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't think anyone should be… _Lucy_!"

Lucy looked on at her mother's panicked face and nonchalantly swallowed the piece of blackie that she had taken upon herself to not only pluck up while no one noticed her (something she was used to at this point) but put in her mouth without a moment's thought.

"What? The black color, smoky haze, and rigid, fractured texture intrigued me; it's like my soul was made edible. I couldn't pass it up," Lucy said in her defense.

Leni was delighted. This was the first time that someone had been happy to accept her baking in a long time. Why, just look at the content face of hers—her arms, trembling with joy as her hands covered her gut, her pale face, turning even whiter from the sheer ecstasy that her delicious treat had given her, her moans of pain, spilling out of her mouth as she doubled over and…

Leni gasped, her happy thoughts melting away at the sight of her little sisters writhing in agony. Th-this wasn't supposed to be happening! It couldn't! It _shouldn't_!

"If you'll excuse me, I think I need to take a trip to the little vampire's room!" Lucy cried as she made a dash for the stairs, her destination as obvious as the look of sheer petrification on Leni's face. Lynn, who shot Leni a dirty look, ran after Lucy.

Lana snorted. "Pssh. I think I can take it," she said as she made a move to help herself to a blackie.

Lynn Sr. grabbed the tray before Lana could move an inch. "Absolutely not," he said sternly.

"So…is, uh, dinner over now?" Luna asked; she was only stretching the truth a little bit about that power ballad.

"Yes," Rita said. "You may all be excused."

Most of her family began to depart after that, either to go see if Lucy was okay or to get ready for bed. Leni had the former objective in mind, her shame spurring her mind into action. With her freedom permitted, Leni got out of her chair, intent on following Lynn and checking up on Lucy…

…but she was stopped cold when a hardy grasp clamped around her shoulder and forced her to sit back down. Leni winced from the sturdy grip that almost wedged into her muscles, but that was forgotten entirely because what happened next.

"Leni," came a harsh whisper in her ear, "we need to talk."

Leni gulped, the queasiness of her guilt compounded by the weight of dread that made her spine shiver; Lori's anger was downright _chilling_ when it was cast in her direction.

* * *

Leni had outgrown the "timeout chair" years ago, but she felt no different from the days of old right now—a child who was told to sit down, be still, be silent, and behave while she was read the riot act for her naughty behavior. Of course, Lori had only told her to stay seated in her chair and remain there until she came back; Leni knew that Lori respected her enough for her to have voice in this, but what could she have to offer that wouldn't just lead to more pain and misery? As far as she was concerned, that was all she was good for.

Lori returned a few minutes later, not bothering to tell Leni what had held her up. Her one guess was that she had tended to Lucy like some of her other siblings and parents had probably done, but Lori wasn't keen on divulging anything of the sort to her. Instead, she was content with sitting in the chair beside her and just…glaring. Not a hard, icy one but one hard and stern enough to keep Leni cowed enough to not break the silence that Lori was allowing to transpire.

The seconds dragged onto minutes, the lack of conversation forcing Leni's failure to keep flashing in her mind. It was almost agonizing, reliving Lucy's ill features coming into focus after eating a piece of that…that… _monstrosity_ that she dared to call a gift, an accomplishment to be shared and enjoyed.

But even if she wanted to go so far as to call her lack of baking prowess a curse, it didn't take away from what Leni still sought after despite everything; one could chalk it up to being an "airhead" if they must, but in addition to pulling her weight with the Fashion Club bake sale, not only did Leni want to make it up to Lucy by baking good brownies, she actually believed that she was closer to doing that more than at any other time she tried her hand at baking.

After all, she was certain that she had gotten at least _half_ of that recipe right. That had to count for something, didn't it?

But just when Leni was starting to brim with warm optimism, Lori shattered the meditative silence.

"What did I tell you?" she asked firmly.

Her words rang a bell, bringing Leni back to what Lori had both said and done earlier today; making her feel small before she could even get started baking. She knew better than to think she was trying to do it on purpose, but now that she had a chance to consider her progress (no matter how small the leap was), Leni felt that she was justified in at least pleading her case, making somewhat of a stand against the idea that everything she had done today was worthless enough to be regretful about not taking Lori up on her advice.

"Lori, I was only trying to-"

Lori slammed her fist against the table, the noise startling Leni. "What. Did. I. Tell. _You_?" she repeated, slower and colder.

Leni nodded, desiring to avoid Lori's belligerence altogether; even if she still held firm to her conviction, it was pointless to have their discussion escalated to a shouting match.

"To give up on baking," Leni said with a sigh.

"And what did you do?" Lori asked, not giving Leni the chance to answer for herself. "You got another one of our sisters sick, Leni, that's what you did. Why, oh why, can't you just leave well enough alone when I tell you to? Is it _really_ that difficult to trust me?"

Leni shook her head, appalled by the notion. "It's not like I don't trust you, Lori," she said feebly. "I was just-"

"Trying to help. I know, Leni, I know. But guess what? Baking just isn't for you. You've failed at it enough times for the _rest_ of us to know that. Why can't you do us all a favor and take a hint already?"

Leni couldn't lie; _that_ hurt. She knew that Luan, at least, had faith in her, but was she really so bad that no one else in her family, not even her loving parents, thought that she should even give baking a shot? She didn't know whether Lori was exaggerating or not, but she didn't care—all the same, the weight of melancholy forced her head to bow her eyes to sting with incoming tears.

Had Lori not softly grabbed the sides of her face and gently forced her to look up at her tender expression, she probably would've cried right there and then.

"Look, I'm not trying to hurt you," Lori assured. "I just know how things work, okay? I should know that more than anyone because I was the first to get the gist of how this family works. I've grown up over the years, looking on as we all grew into individuals, becoming defined by the talents we were born with. There's Lynn and her sports, Luna and her music, Lincoln and his problem solving—we all have that one special thing that makes us unique, that makes people wish they could be just as good as us at it."

Lori wiped Leni's eyes dry with her thumbs and scooted a little closer to her. "For you Leni, it's fashion; no one can touch you in that department, and you should feel proud of that. But like I also told you, for everything that we're good at, there are things that we can't do well at all. For instance, Luan has no business being a fashion consultant, but she knows her way in the kitchen, especially with pies.

You, on the other hand, are the opposite; I'd trust a thread and needle in your hands before a measuring cup and a bag of flour. But that's fine, Leni. No one can be perfect, and you're plenty awesome enough without needing to know how to bake. So please, Leni, for the last time…"

Lori's face melted into the steely firmness that Leni knew better than to associate with words of comfort. To her dismay, those weren't the words that she had in store for her next.

"Give. Up."

Up until this point, Leni had been teetering between the acceptance of failure and the indignation at the idea that she should be disqualified at trying to improve herself.

Not anymore, though. Those two simple, terse words left no room for negotiation or for any positive interpretation; Lori was so sure that her little sister was such a good-for-nothing that the idea of trying, whether she put her family at risk with her bad baking or not, wasn't just foolish, it was borderline criminal.

But where was this attitude when Lori put her driver's license in jeopardy with her cruel deception and selfishness? Did she count herself out, thinking that she was so far beyond redemption that trying to make things right was just impossible? No, she didn't.

Where was this attitude with Lynn? Did Lori think that she was too aggressively competitive to join in on family game night once Lynn had recognized her mistake and aimed to improve her attitude? No, she didn't.

Where was this attitude with Lola? Did Lori just write her off as someone who could never be trusted with a secret after she had gone out of her way to prove her integrity by taking the fall for the rest of them? No, she didn't.

So why was _she_ the exception? Why was _she_ supposed to just roll over and stew in failure for the rest of her existence? Why didn't _she_ , the sister that Lori had always seen as her best friend, count? Did Lori see her as such a lost cause that she was banned from ever having another chance, even after she felt like she made some progress? Where was the love and fairness from _that_?

She didn't have the time nor the patience to get those answers from Lori. All she knew is that she had a few choices words for her older sister, and they weren't going to please her. But she had no problems with rebuffing her hypocrisy and unfairness; it's not like it deserved anything else.

Leni swatted Lori's hands of her face. "I won't," she said, her defiance flustering Lori.

Lori blinked. " _What?_ "

Leni's glared hardened. "I won't give up, Lori; not on the bake sale, and not on myself."

Lori's face began to morph into an angry scowl as her teeth began to grind.

"Don't you care at all about Lucy?" she asked in a disdainful tone. "Think about what she's going through because of you."

Her receding grasp on her composure did nothing to frighten Leni nor did her guilt trip knock her off her stride.

"I feel sorry for Lucy, but I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself," Leni replied. "I did better today than any other time I've tried to bake; I know I can get it right if I just keep trying. Besides, what better way to make it up to Lucy than by giving her that cozy tummy feeling with a _good_ brownie?"

By now, Lori was rendered to spluttering angrily and pulling at her hair. Leni waited for her to try to discourage her again, ready to swat away her attempts with a steadfast resolve. Instead of another angry rebuke, however, Lori just groaned in frustration. It seemed to do the trick at making her less volatile, if anything else.

"So that's it, then? You're gonna waste two months of your time, trying and failing to be good at something you have no chance at?" Lori asked.

"No," Leni said. "I'm giving my all at something that I _know_ I have a chance at, and I'll keep trying as long as I can—with or without your support."

Lori just shook her head and got up out of her chair, knocking it over in the process.

"Fine," she spat contemptuously. "Just don't say that I didn't warn you."

Leni harrumphed. "Back at you, Lori," she fired back as Lori angrily flounced away.

It wasn't until Lori had gone up the stairs that Leni began to plan out her next move. She knew that her night was far from over—she had a long way to go, and she wouldn't get any better from sitting around.

But it would all be worth it in the end. _She'd_ show Lori how wrong she was.

* * *

Stealth was the name of the game for Leni from here on out, which is why she made sure to make her move as soon as it was creeping close to midnight and she knew that everyone else was deep in sleep. She couldn't assume that anyone except Luan would support her if she were to openly practice her baking, and she wasn't up for dealing with anyone trying to stop her. And as for Luan herself, Leni felt like she had sacrificed enough of her free time as it was. Besides, she felt comfortable enough to go at it solo and even if she didn't, it'd be more satisfying to prove Lori wrong by doing this herself.

Leni knew she'd have similar late nights and early mornings to come, but tonight's workload would be relatively simple; it'd only be a bunch of research on the living room's computer about questions and sources of confusion that she wanted to have resolved. That's why, as quietly and covertly as she could, Leni clacked and clicked away, trying to scour the web (which she had learned years ago _wasn't_ crawling about with spiders, much to her relief), for the right place of information about a particular conundrum.

Around twenty minutes and two baking instructional videos later, the dilemma of said conundrum vanished as quickly as a puff of smoke in the wind.

"Oh, so _that's_ why the brownies came out all gross; I, like, wasn't paying attention to the time," Leni said at the end of the viewing of the last instructional video.

No wonder she got "blackies"; although she had followed that recipe as closely as she could, she had forgotten all about checking on her brownies in time before they had a chance to get all burnt up. Though, as much as it had been her fault for getting distracted, as far as Leni was concerned, the urgency of watching the time hadn't gotten across to her until now.

"It would've been nice if Luan had warned me about that," Leni said. "It makes me wonder why she never did."

* * *

Leni had bought herself ten cartons of whole milk in preparation for what she was doing now—it didn't hurt to have a lot of stock, given that tonight's goal was on the better side of daunting.

"Dang it," Leni muttered and poured out the milk out of her measuring cup into the sink.

This was the fifth time she screwed up, but she would get it right. She knew she could. It was only Day 3 of her secret mission, so she still had plenty of time. Still, it didn't mean that she couldn't feel a little annoyed that something this simple was a problem for her.

And lo and behold, another pour rendered another disappointing result.

Leni frowned at the measuring cup. "Nope," she sighed and down the sink's drain went the milk.

Yet another careful pour ended _way_ past where Leni was aiming for.

"Too much, too much!" Leni cried and grumbled under her breath as she got rid of seventh cup of milk…

…well, not quite a "cup". No matter how careful Leni had been, she couldn't get the milk to rest _exactly_ on the "1 cup" line. She'd either pour too little or too much, meaning that it was clearly no good anymore. Not to mention that on top of that…

"This is the third carton of milk I've wasted!" Leni exclaimed as she peered into the empty carton. "Man, baking is _way_ tougher than it looks!"

* * *

"Carefully…carefully…" Leni chanted as she slowly inched her egg towards the edge of her bowl, failing to will her shaky hand from jostling about.

That's it, just a little bit more and…

 _*crack*_

Leni groaned, looking down at the bowl at her defeat; once again, she had let the yolk slip in but at the cost of having shards of inedible eggshell sprinkled in.

Unlike the milk pouring, which she had finally mastered after about another two hours, the egg cracking objective proved to be a bit more challenging and time consuming. This was the third day she was going at it, and she hadn't made any headway at all; she would either tap the egg too softly against the bowl and not make a crack in the shell at all or she'd use _too_ much force and have the yolk land in the bowl and bits of eggshell pieces as well.

Oh well, nothing better to do now than to go at it again.

* * *

Fiery vines of cramping, dull pain throbbed in Leni's wrist and snaked through the muscles of her upper arm and caked into the deepest recesses of her shoulder—such was the heavy burden of nonstop whisking practice, something that she been doing for about fifteen minutes straight. It hurt like the dickens, but Leni pushed on.

It had been about over a week-and-a-half since Leni had snuck downstairs for the beginning of her baking training, and by the point, she knew exactly how to make the brownie batter. The only problem now was that she needed to have a better handle at whisking. She remembered very well what had happened when Luan let her have a go at it, and she didn't need to repeat the same mistake again—wasting batter, thus reducing the size of the final product, was no good.

Now that she had her batter in her bowl, she had spent some time trying to use enough force with her whisk to get the air into the batter yet not too much exertion, lest she get batter flying out. It wasn't an easy task, though; she was trying to get it right with the fifty strokes that the recipe called for, but she always managed to mess up right around the halfway point and go overboard…

Until now. She had made it to stroke number forty, and despite the cramps searing through her arm, she kept her eyes on the prize.

 _42…_

' _Almost there…'_

 _45…_

' _Getting closer…'_

 _49…_

' _Just one more and…'_

…

…

 _50._

With one last stroke, Leni let go of the whisk handle, letting her aching arm limply fall to her side. She grinned victoriously and set the bowl aside on the counter. She knew at this point that the batter was no good—since she beat it way too many times for it to be usable—but that hardly mattered to her now; it was another small step, but it was one that had followed over a week of other small steps.

She was getting there. She could just _taste_ those brownies now…

…although right now, all she wanted to taste was a few aspirin before going to bed; her arm was killing her!

* * *

Luan knew what she had to do; this had gone on for way _too_ long now.

It all started nearly two weeks ago. At about a quarter past one in the morning, Luan had finished using the bathroom, and she was on her way back to bed…

Until the sound of Leni's voice, coming from downstairs, stopped her mid-stride:

" _This is the third carton of milk I've wasted! Man, baking is way tougher than it looks!"_

Though she was only half-awake, Luan didn't need much to piece together what Leni was doing, and she couldn't blame her. Leni looked absolutely miserable after her baking had gotten Lucy sick. That must've inspired her to train, working hard to improve herself to make up for what she did and to contribute to that bake sale.

But Luan didn't just feel sympathy for Leni's self-afflicted rigorous training, she felt a little guilty too. After all, had she supervised Leni that day, has she stuck around when her sister was clearly looking to her for guidance, she wouldn't be here right now. She didn't imagine Leni as the spiteful type, but with what she had inadvertently caused, it was no wonder that Luan had tried her best to avoid Leni directly to avoid an awkward confrontation.

But that encounter had been over a week ago and once again, Luan could hear Leni bustling about in the kitchen in the dead of night. She could only imagine all the hours or frustration, self-loathing, and exhaustion that she had gone through to prove herself, and it finally made the comedienne choose to right her wrong by giving Leni a helping hand.

Tiptoeing down the stairs as quietly as she could, Luan slunk through the darkness of the living room, using her familiarity of the house and the light from the kitchen to guide her steps. A few quiet paces later, Luan had made it to the dining room's archway and found Leni, washing her hands in the sink with her back turned to her.

"Leni?" Luan called out quietly.

Leni spun around immediately, her body trembling and her face wretched with fear. Luan crossed the kitchen about halfway before she stopped and said, "Leni, it's okay. I know what you've been doing down here."

Though her dread slowly began to drain out of her pores, an errant thought left Leni displeased with Luan's sudden appearance—it was a horrid assumption, one that Luan, of all people, probably didn't deserve, but Leni wanted all of her bases covered if she was going to be sure about how she was going to approach this.

"Are…are you here to tell me to quit too?" Leni asked sadly as she turned the sink faucet off.

Luan vigorously shook her head, her ponytail swishing about. "No. I came down here to apologize," she replied with more sadness than Leni just had.

Leni's forehead wrinkled in utter confusion. "For what?"

Luan's gaze wandered off from Leni's and fixated at her feet. "For bailing on you a few weeks back. You looked to me for guidance, and I ran out on you the first chance I got. I should've stuck around _way_ longer than I did. I barely gave you a chance."

Just then, that spark of inspiration came back. Even though if it wasn't really time for a joke, Luan succumbed to the urge to tell it anyway, even if the effort behind her smile and delivery was half-hearted at best.

"I guess since we're dealing with baking, that makes me a pretty _crumby_ teacher," Luan joked as she looked over at Leni again, not even bothering to end her pun with a laugh.

She felt a little better, however, when she saw a tiny smile slip across Leni's face; it wasn't much, but anything that was indicative of a good mood was fine by her and hopefully, she'd feel better with what she had to say next.

"But I'm here to make things better," Luan said. "I'll stick around with you until the very..."

And that's when her peripheral vision spotted something by the oven, the brief flash of that… _something_ making Luan pause. Sure enough, once she turned her head to get a better look, her suspicions were confirmed by the undeniable fact that yes, those were indeed a plate of edible, delectable-looking brownies sitting right next to the oven.

 _What_ this meant in context to Leni's late-night kitchen escapades was anyone's guess, so rather than assume the worst or the best of it, Luan thought it wise to simply ask Leni herself.

"Leni?"

"Yeah?"

Luan pointed at the brownies. "What're those?"

Leni followed Luan's finger and saw… _those_. Like, totes yuck; she _was_ going to throw those things out, after washing her hands, but Luan had found her out before she had the chance to do so.

"Oh, those? Those are just rejects," Leni said, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Luan looked at the brownies again, then back at Leni with a look of incredulity. "Rejects?" Luan asked. " _Those_?"

"Uh-huh," Leni said as she pulled out that printed brownie recipe from her dress pocket and pointed at the big picture of brownies in the middle. "They don't look like the picture on the recipe, so those are totes bad."

Luan, still in a state of disbelief from Leni's dismissive attitude, just had to be the judge of that for herself. Closing the distance between her and the "rejects", Luan peered over the chocolatey squares, looking to spot anything that would've been a warning sign for disaster.

"On top of that," Leni continued as Luan thoroughly examined, "I had to substitute the cocoa powder for my own melted chocolate made from scratch. It's no good, though, since the amount of flour I used made the brownies look too 'cakey' and 'cracked' instead of 'clean' and 'smooth' like I want. The point is, it's _way_ too different from the recipe to be any good. I should've known that it wasn't worth a shot."

By this point, Luan could hardly believe her ears nor her eyes. She had given the brownies way more than a once over—even going as far as to smell them—and there was nothing "totes bad" about them as far as she was concerned. Yeah, these brownies had cracks in them, but those weren't what Luan would call imperfections.

Without even having to second guess herself, Luan snatched one of the brownies up and bit a piece off.

Immediately, she felt her taste buds tingle in delight as the hearty, rich chocolatey flavor melted in her mouth, coated over her tongue, and slithered down her throat before the gooey goodness settled in her tummy.

Luan's eyes burst open in amazement. "Leni, are you for real?! These are amazing!" she cried.

Leni, however, was unconvinced by Luan's display. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better, Luan."

"No, seriously, Leni! Try one and see!" Luan insisted.

Leni's frown only got wider. "Luan, I already told you that they're no good," she said sternly, getting fed up with what she thought was Luan's deception. "I don't have to taste them to know; I can _see_ it for myself. Thanks for trying to get me to cheer up, but all you're doing is rubbing my failure in my face."

Luan wasn't about to let that deter her; this was what Leni had been wanting all along, and she couldn't let her betray her mission with her own self-doubts.

She sidled up to her stubborn sister and slung an arm around her shoulder.

"Leni, it's okay to be a little different as long as you know what you're doing," she said, a tone of pleading entering her tone. "It's not like _all_ brownies are made the same way anyway."

Leni, stone-faced and all, just sniffed. Luan groaned as she scrambled about for a different approach. Her face lit up once she thought she had one that would work.

"Look, think about it like this; don't you almost always modify any outfits you buy to make them look better on you?" Luan asked.

Leni shrugged. "Yeah? Like, what's the point?"

"The point is," Luan said as she brought Leni a little closer, "you're doing the same thing now. You're adding your own twist to something and making it your own. Heck, I'd say you made it _better_ ; the brownies _I_ made don't taste half as good as these."

The grumpy face Leni wore started to peel away, leaving a realizing smile in its place; if that's what she had done, then…then maybe being a little different wasn't so bad, after all. Besides, now that she thought about, what incentive did Luan have to lie anyway? She had never told her that she was doing right while she had been teaching her, so why would she do the same thing now?

"So, the way I'm baking is just like making the cuffs of a dress puffier or adding rhinestones to a purse?" Leni asked, feeling herself getting giddier by the second.

"Exactly," Luan said as her smile widened. "Be proud, Leni. As far as I'm concerned, you've got this baking thing down pat. You shouldn't be playing by the book; making something your own is what suits you best."

Leni's bubbly expression got even bubblier, her cheeriness contagious enough to brighten up a goth convention.

"You think so?" Leni asked, eyes twinkling.

"I do," Luan said, an idea forming in her head. "In fact, I don't think you even need my help if you've made brownies _this_ good. However, just in case there's something I need to assist you with, I'm gonna supervise you with the next batch of brownies you'll be making after school. After that, you can show everyone how much you've learned, _especially_ Lori."

The idea was nothing new to Leni; she had wanted to do the exact same thing once she found out she was ready…

…only now, she _was_ ready. She had fought the good fight, finished her race, and held onto to faith through the very end. The bake sale was still about a month-and-a-half away, so that wasn't her biggest concerned right now. In but a few hours, she'd not make up her mistake to Lucy with a good brownie, but she'd get the satisfaction of proving Lori's prejudice against her wrong.

She vowed to show her up and now it was going to happen, way ahead of schedule. She couldn't ask for anything better than that.


	3. Chapter 3

A little over an hour ago, Rita and Lynn Sr. were, once again, approached by Leni about presenting her brownies at dinner. Unlike before, though, this was the first time that both parents were on board with the idea, and Rita was all smiles as she was about announce Leni's breakthrough to the whole family—she made to win the round of "nose goes" that determined whom it would be that would get that honor.

"More good news, everyone," Rita said over the cacophony of intermingling conversations that enveloped the dinner table.

Those who weren't Rita, Lynn Sr., Leni, or Luan, silenced immediately, dread overtaking them like a possessing apparition. It didn't take much for them to be reminded of the last time that Rita had "good news" for them.

"And, uh, by 'good news', you mean-"

"Yes, Lynn," Rita interrupted, giving her sporty daughter a look of gentle reassurance. "I really mean 'good news'. Leni's baked us another batch of brownies."

Before the dining room could explode in a state of bedlam, Lynn Sr. stood up whistled loudly with his fingers, keeping any and all hysteria in check.

"Lynn and I tried some before we _both_ approved Leni sharing them with everyone else," Rita continued once her husband sat back down. She then turned to Leni. "And I must say, Leni, you've really outdone yourself. I never thought you'd make as much progress as you've accomplished in only a few weeks, but you managed to do it. Great job."

Leni just grinned shyly as she got up and went to the kitchen to get her brownies.

"I'll say," Luan added as her sister departed. "Leni's worked super hard to make them as good as they are, and I'm not just saying that for _brownie points_ , either."

* * *

Lori was the only one not to groan at Luan's pun. The last three minutes she had seen and heard were among the most bizarre she had ever experienced in her entire life, and that was saying something with the kind of life she had in a family such as hers.

Had she heard Mom right? Had Mom, under no duress whatsoever, claim that Leni, Leni _Loud_ , had baked together a batch of brownies that didn't have less edibility than a lump of coal? And Dad was right along for the ride, not doing anything akin to calling her out on a lie; he looked just as proud as she did.

And Luan…what was _her_ deal? If her endorsement was some kind of prank, an attempt to get everyone else to drop their guard, then why would Mom and Dad be on it too? Did they want to buy immunity from next year's "Prank-agedddon"?

Whatever the case was, Lori had one dominating thought:

' _Okay, now_ _this_ _is something that I've gotta see. Leni? Baking good brownies? Please, I doubt they're even decent at best.'_

Lori looked on as Leni came back with a bake pan that she didn't even bother to keep covered this time. The air was nearly sucked out of the room as Lori—along with Luna, Lynn, Lincoln, Lucy, Lana, Lola, Lisa, and Lily—gasped at the sight before them. Neither of them, not even Lori could deny that what Leni had just placed in the dinner table was one appetizing looking pan of brownies.

"Like the Polish people say, _bon appétit_!" Leni cried.

And just like that, everyone was off to the races, thundering over to taste those brownies as if their lives depended on it…

Well, everyone except for Lori, was still too stymied to do anything more than look on with her mouth agape and her eyes as wide as globe models. _'This…this literally cannot be happening…'_

But whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, it _was_ happening. Even Lucy, who had every reason to approach Leni's brownies with suspicion and doubt, was enjoying herself.

Despite that, Lori couldn't decide if she had stepped into the Twilight Zone or if she had somehow been subjected to a virtual reality simulation by one of Lisa's machines—either possibility sounded more plausible than the idea that Leni had done a complete 180° with baking practically by herself!

"Wow, these brownies rock!" Luna exclaimed.

"Who knew such a delectable confection was even possible?!" Lisa proclaimed with handfuls of brownie. "The sheer brilliance of this delicacy renders my own inventions as mere child's play!"

"I can't wait to give some of these off to Clyde!" Lincoln cried. "These are amazing!"

"Not if I eat 'em all first!" Lynn said.

Each declaration of praise only made Lori's latest explanation that much more valid to her, her stubborn pride not allowing her to accept defeat and admit that she was wrong to underestimate her little sister.

It wasn't that she was _wrong_ about Leni—no, not at all! It was just that this was a-

"You want one too, Lori?"

Lori was shaken out of the reverie of her thoughts at the sound of Leni's voice. Lori looked up and saw Leni, beaming with the pride that Lori felt that she didn't deserve to have, setting a brownie on her empty dinner plate.

Then, against her better judgment, Lori gazed at the treat and found herself relishing in the delectable smell and look the brownie had. She could almost taste what was sure to be the chewy, pleasurable fudginess crumbling delightfully in her mouth as her tongue savored the texture, the flavor, and the…no!

Lori shook her head in a frantic bid to get the temptation under control. Once she felt that she had a better grip on her self-control, she sniffed at the brownie in disgust and crossed her arms.

"Absolutely not," Lori said.

She nearly felt guilty enough to reconsider her words at the wounded look of disappointment her words had caused, but only _nearly_ , though.

"But…but why?" Leni asked sadly.

"I just can't accept these, that's all," Lori said. "I'll admit that you did a good job with them, but this is nothing more than a fluke; I can't reward you for a fluke by eating your brownies. It just wouldn't be right."

Now, it was a bitter frown's turn to morph on Leni's face. "Oh? Is that so?" Leni asked, her question presented as more of a challenge than an innocent question.

"Yeah. It _is_ so," Lori insisted. "You're just not good at baking, plain and simple. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. That doesn't mean anything."

It was then and there that an oh-so clever idea crossed Lori's mind; if there was any way for her to be proven right, it was to have her words be put into action with a test.

"In fact, I bet you couldn't do this tomorrow with a dessert _besides_ brownies," Lori said with a cocky sneer.

"Oh yeah?" Leni retorted.

"Yeah. Just you watch; we're all gonna see today as a fluke once tomorrow comes around."

As far as Lori was concerned, she had put Leni in checkmate, no possible way to come out the winner. She was sure she'd feel a little bad for having to put Leni in her place, of course, but it wasn't the time nor the place for regrets because she had a point to prove and it would taste sweeter than Leni's fluke brownies.

She'd show Leni. Oh, she'd show her, indeed.

* * *

But by the time that the next day rolled in, Lori could only find herself showing Leni, who was standing right next to her, her best impression of Edvard Munch's _The Scream_ —it wasn't as if she could do anything else as she looked on at her family ravenously helping themselves to a plate of Leni's coconut macaroons, a confection that she had apparently baked sometime before going to bed late last night.

Though Lori couldn't see it, Leni's self-satisfied grin was as apparent as her flabbergasted stasis.

"You were saying?" Leni asked, her taunting tone proving to be enough to get Lori to break out of her paralysis.

"J-just another fluke," Lori mumbled with puffed cheeks.

Whatever. Fine. Macaroons _and_ brownies? Big whoop. Like she said yesterday, broken clocks were right _twice_ a day. She got it right twice, so far; she wouldn't stumble onto another victory again.

By tomorrow, everything would be back to way it should've been once Leni finally ran out of luck.

* * *

"Well, Lori, what do you have to say no-"

"Fluke, fluke, _fluuuuuuuuuuuuke_!"

Despite her outburst, no one who was munching down Leni's lemon bars, paid it any heed; that went double for the way Lori ran out of the dining room, as if a wild tiger was chasing her down.

For Lori, though, a wild tiger's ferocity paled in comparison to the ferocity of the debt of her words coming back to haunt her, demanding that she own up for all the doubting and discouraging that she had lobbed at Leni.

But it had been long past the point of a simple matter of stubborn pride for Lori. No, she _had_ to run, _had_ to keep looking for a way out. That way, she wouldn't have to own up to what she knew she would be if she couldn't see herself as in the right.

That's why, until she could find that way out, she would keep on running.

* * *

By the next day, Lori's determination had all but dried up to a shallow husk. She laid in bed, defeated and without refuge.

That last blow had done the trick; just a few minutes ago, Leni had brought out a tray of delicious-looking cupcakes, each topped with a different color of homemade frosting that she had crafted. There was orange for Lincoln, red for Lynn, pink for Lola, purple for Luna, and so on and so forth…

…except there wasn't a blue one. Her lack of inclusion was anything _but_ unintentional; she could see that look of disdain that Leni had snuck at her as she passed her cupcakes around, making sure to cover her tracks by commenting that she had "accidentally" forgotten to bake one for Lori.

That was all it took for Lori to excuse herself from the dinner table, making sure to do so while retaining a level-headed, nonchalant composure: she didn't deserve anyone chasing her down to give her any pity.

Running was all that Lori thought she had, but now it just looked like an exercise in futility. She didn't want to run anymore—accepting her newfound label and wearing it with dignity was not only what she deserved but what Leni deserved too.

Lincoln might have said it in blind anger once upon a time, but Lori didn't feel like she could deny the accuracy of the claim any longer—she truly was the "worst sister ever".

* * *

What she was doing wouldn't do much to efface her sins, but Lori didn't care as much for atonement as she did for giving Leni what she was due.

That's why Lori, after mustering the courage to do so, approached the kitchen with tentative steps, finding Leni at the kitchen table with her head rested against her hand. Lori couldn't blame her for looking so despondent—after all, she couldn't imagine that Leni would've wanted to go up to her bedroom while she was there.

Well, if that was the case, then Lori hoped that when she announced herself to her, Leni wouldn't run off from her and lock herself in their bedroom.

At least, not without listening to what she had to say first.

"Hey, Leni."

Her greeting only got Leni's eyes to wander up at for the a split second before they looked away again. The little scowl she had before had grown longer.

Still, Lori was insistent on making herself heard, even after the warning signs had told her to abandon all hope.

"Look, you're probably really mad at me, and I don't blame you," Lori continued. "I've been pretty awful lately, haven't I?"

Leni's expression didn't shift, not even a little.

"And I just wanna say that I'm sorry."

That is, until Lori had said _that_. Her frown had all but vanished and her eyes had gone back to looking at her older sister, who looked about as miserable as she thought she'd only get after a hypothetical break-up with Bobby.

"I'm sorry for belittling you and counting you out," Lori said, her voice choked by dejection. "I should've given you the benefit of the doubt instead of being against you all this time. It wasn't fair of me, and I just want you to know that I'm proud of you. I know you're gonna be a hit at that bake sale. You deserve to be."

With that, without giving Leni a chance to react, Lori turned on her heel and began to walk away. She'd stick around in the living room until Leni decided to go back to their room. Then, she'd make herself at home on the living room couch for the nights to come until Leni had the stomach and the mercy to endure her presence again.

Yeah right, like _that_ would ever happen.

"Wait."

Lori stopped herself, shook up from what she had heard. She didn't want to turn away, afraid that she'd be confirming that she was just deluding herself to make herself feel better.

But then, when she felt a head pressed against her back, felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, and looked down to see the hands of Leni locked around her belly, she had to keep herself from swooning from the disbelief that racked through her body like lightning.

"You said a bunch of really mean things," she heard Leni say sternly, "but I can't exactly…well, blame you, I guess. I had to earn your trust to get you to believe in me. I couldn't just expect you to back me up just because I wanted you to."

Aghast by such a self-deprecating utterance, Lori reached down and held onto Leni's hands as tenderly as she could.

"No, Leni. That's no excuse," she replied softly. "Even if I wasn't exactly wrong to be skeptical, I should've never acted like it was impossible for you to be good at baking, especially with how much it meant for you to get better in time for the bake sale."

Feeling a little better with herself, Lori's lower face split with a grin as she turned around in Leni's arms, stopping until she was looking down at her. The embers of her joy flared once she saw Leni with a smile of her own.

"If it means anything to you," Lori said, "I'll make sure to be extra careful to try and encourage you from now on. So, uh, do you accept my apology?"

As soon as she said that, Leni broke away from her to walk over to the fridge. Despite how well Leni had taken her words, Lori was still a little worried about Leni's lack of an immediate, positive reply.

The worry dematerialized when Leni returned, bringing back a little piece of heaven with her—and the best part was, it was topped off with a hearty lump of light blue frosting on top.

"Only as long as you accept the cupcake I baked for you," Leni said, which she punctuated with a little laugh once Lori immediately took it from her.

"Heck yeah, I do!" Lori exclaimed before she started scarfing down the cupcake like there was no tomorrow, not even caring about all the frosting that got slathered all over her face.

After Lori, who had been more ecstatic about a cupcake than she had ever been before, finished off the last piece of her treat, she heard Leni telling her, "Thank you."

"Hmmm? For what?" Lori asked as she licked her fingers clean.

"For motivating me," Leni explained. "Even if you didn't mean to, you really pushed me to get better with all your doubting. I felt like I was the 'The Little Engine That Could'."

To illustrate her point, Leni started spewing out a series of chugging sounds, followed by her pantomiming a locomotive as she circled around the table with a huge, chipper smile on her face. Lori couldn't help but find the sight insanely adorable and amusing.

"'The Little Engine That Could', huh? Yeah, I suppose that works," Lori said, "but if I'm gonna be honest, I think 'The Little _Sister_ That Could' works a whole lot better."

Once Leni stopped her little show, she let Lori know that she wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

 _ **TWO DAYS LATER…**_

* * *

And…voila! Perfect!

Leni could get a little fussy when it came to getting every last detail of her handiwork as perfect as she could—a penchant that came from all sewing and fabricating she did over the years. Naturally, that meant that she had to be sure that her huge plate of raspberry turnovers was stacked as pleasantly as possible, a process that took a good seven minutes or so before Leni was satisfied with the pyramid formation that she had put together.

After all, presentation was almost as important as the baked good itself, and Leni couldn't imagine serving her family with anything less than her absolute best.

Now that _that_ was taken care of, it was time for the presentation itself, which Leni made sure to draw out just a _little_ bit by taking her sweet ol' time as she made her way to the dining room—there was just…something about keeping her family in suspense, knowing that they were sitting on pins and needles in anticipation of _her_ , that made the few seconds of delay worth it to her.

"Okay, everyone," Leni cried as she arrived in the dining room, noting every watering mouth and captivated gaze that was transfixed on her and her plate of sweets, "who wants raspberry turnovers?!"

Everyone, even her parents, were in an uproar as they scrambled to her like a pack of hungry dogs. Lana and Lynn went so far as to sit on their haunches, pant, and bat at her legs _just like_ hungry dogs. Leni had to hold the plate over her head just to keep their grabby hands away, though she couldn't help but find this sort of reception entertaining.

"Guys, guys, relax!" Leni shouted, though there was only mirth in her voice. "There's _plenty_ of turnovers to go around! Just get in line, and I'll give you one!"

That was all it took for her family to compose themselves as they immediately pulled it together and scrambled in a single file line per Leni's request. Lincoln found himself at the head of the line, and began the train of compliments and gratitude that Leni could never imagine getting tired of.

"Thanks, Leni," Lincoln said as he helped himself.

The twins were next. "Thank you, Leni," they said simultaneously, their sweet little voices sending Leni to the moon and back.

"My sincerest of thanks, Leni," Lisa said, making sure to hug her big sister once she got her turnover.

"You da man, Leni," Lynn said, sneaking another turnover under the one she openly grabbed.

Okay…now _that_ was just confusing. Last time she checked, Leni wasn't a man. She'd have to correct Lynn on that later.

* * *

Speaking of Lynn, a few days later, Leni was confronted with the sight of her jumping out in front of her as she laid across the couch, watching TV. Though Leni was a little perturbed by the sudden intrusion, the look of panic on her face was what truly got her to regard Lynn's appearance as a serious matter.

"Leni, we got a big situation on our hands!" Lynn cried.

Leni sat up and gasped, throwing her hands over her cheeks. "Did little Lincoln fall down the well again?!"

The distress in Lynn's features slowly began to deflate. "Leni, we don't _have_ a well," she said, somewhat irked.

"We don't?" Leni wondered. "Then how did he fall down the first time?"

She didn't have time to ponder about that for long as Lynn shouted at her again, that timbre of distress back on display. "Look, forget about the well! I accidentally threw my football through Mr. Grouse's window, and he's threatening to call the cops on me unless I can bribe him! I can't go to jail! My soccer coach is gonna kick me off to team if I become a jailbird! You gotta help me!"

Leni took in the quandary, trying to empathize with Lynn's plight as best she could…

…but couldn't help but laugh. Lynn made it sound like she was dealing with something terrifying, something that couldn't be handled. Leg warmers? Jorts? Squirrels? Squirrels wearing jorts and leg warmers? Yeah, _those_ were truly terrifying. But thus? This was nothing, and Leni was gobsmacked that Lynn didn't know that for herself.

"Lynn, relax," Leni reassured. "We have Dad to take care of that. He can just use one of his lasagnas."

Lynn shook her head. "No can do!" she said. "He caught wind of how awesome you are at baking, and he wants a plate of your sugar cookies, pronto! Ya gotta help me, Leni!"

Even though Lynn's request was too urgent to be taking any mental detours away from the dilemma right in front of her, Leni couldn't help herself—she knew she was good, but, from the sounds of things, she was good enough to have her reputation as an excellent baker spread to Mr. Grouse's ears.

And not only that, he voluntarily chose to indulge _her_ baking over the baking of her father, someone who was not only good enough to work as the co-chef at one of the most popular fusion cuisine restaurants in town but was the go-to person for all of Mr. Grouse's bribes.

For him to buck tradition like this…that could only mean that Leni was far better than she could've ever imagined she'd be. She supposed that if she was such a good baker, it'd only make sense for both Mr. Grouse and Lynn to turn to her for their needs.

Leni grinned, puffed up at feeling of being relied on and the knowledge that she had the skills to back up her confidence.

"That's all? Piece of cake," Leni said, but stopped herself from continuing when she realized her "mistake". "I-I mean 'cookie'. I can have them done in about thirty minutes."

Before Leni could get up and take care of business, she was floored by Lynn's tackling hug.

"Thanks, Leni!" Lynn cried. "I'm not going to the slammer, after all!"

Even with the rib-compressing hug that Lynn had clamped around her, Leni wasn't sure that her day could get any better than this.

She was proven wrong when Lynn came back around half an hour later to tell her that Mr. Grouse had taken the bribe and was happier than she had seen him since the Christmas they had spent with him in his family's stead.

Now that… _that_ most certainly made Leni's day better.

* * *

"Seriously?" Leni asked.

"Seriously," her father replied.

Leni was one step away from looking around the room for candid cameras; this was almost too peculiar to take at face value.

Could this be a trick? If it was, then her whole family, who was seated around the dining table and looking at her expectantly, played a role in this ruse too. But if it wasn't…if it _wasn't_ a trick, then Leni _had_ to ask again—she _had_ to hear her father unbegrudgingly pass down such an honor to her.

"You're giving _me_ the seat at the head of the table?"

"Absolutely."

Leni looked away from her father's face and back down at the empty chair in front of her. "But…why?"

Lynn Sr. placed a hand on her shoulder, the universal sign of pride that a parent had in their child.

"You've made dinner time the best it's been in years, Leni," Lynn Sr. said. "This is the least I can do to give you my thanks."

His gaze drifted towards his other children and his wife. "Any objections?"

None of them did as much. In fact, they all gestured for Leni to have a seat, a seat at the chair that they all felt like she deserved.

And now that everything was beginning to fall into place, now that Leni knew why she was being exalted like this, she didn't have the heart nor the mind to turn them away.

They were right; she _had_ made dinner better with her baking skills. They wouldn't be as happy as they've been in the past few weeks had they not been. If this was the way that they were going to thank her, then who was she to deny herself of what she deserved?

"Well then," Leni said, complacency brewing through her body as sat down, "don't mind if I do."

Ah, what a view this was. She could clearly see twelve cheery faces, beaming their grins of appreciation at her. She could _definitely_ get used to this.

* * *

Leni didn't know why she didn't consider doing _this_ sooner—even if it was a few days before the bake sale, Leni couldn't see why her Fashion Club friends couldn't be treated to a little teaser at all the goods that Leni would have in store for their customers. Thus, Leni took it upon herself to bake a spread of an assortment of treats she could show off during lunch.

By the sounds and looks of it, the only thing that Leni did wrong was not bringing enough to satisfy her ravenous horde of fans.

"Okay, forget about new supplies; we can buy ourselves Ferraris with all the money we'll be raking in with muffins _this_ good!" Jasmine, a dark-skinned girl with a ponytail, chirped before she took another bite of her blueberry muffin.

"Oh, those muffins are on fleek," Monica, a girl with a pink highlight streak through her short, black hair, said, "but have you tried the fried donut holes?! The blueberry filling is to die for!"

"I'll give 'em a shot after I post some pics of those cream puffs online!" Amber, a redheaded girl, exclaimed. "The entire world has to know about them!"

"Well, maybe the world won't know, but the entire school will once the bake sale rolls around," Micah, a freckled boy with curly, brown hair said, "We're gonna be a hit."

"And we owe it all to Leni, the 'Diva of Desserts'," Derek, a boy with glasses and a piece of strawberry shortcake on his wielded fork, said.

"That's not bad," Amber said, "but I think the 'Baking Beauty' is a much better fit—a good look _and_ a good cook all rolled into one."

"Oooorrrr…" Monica said, giving her idea some build-up with a dramatic pause, "…how about the 'Goddess of Goodies'?!"

"How about just plain awesome?" Jasmine suggested.

The group all murmured and talked back and forth to themselves, collectively spouting out murmurs of agreement of grunts of objection. After about a minute of this, it was Micah who remembered the girl that they were talking about in the first place, and turned to her to ask, "What'd you think Leni?"

Leni, who had absolutely no problem with letting her friends gush about her the way that they had, replied, a contented smile on her face, "They all sound pretty good, actually."

And though Leni thought this to herself, she found them all to be quite fitting to boot.

* * *

The night before the bake sale had been a bit of a festive occasion; at least, that's how Leni felt about what had happened to her at dinner.

She wasn't prepared, but not displeased, when upon walking into the dining room, her family had greeted her with an uproar of cheers, applauses, and a "Leni!" chant that had gone on just a little bit shorter than she would've liked. That was fine, though, since it all started up again as soon as she brought out a fresh apricot pie.

Now, with the silence of the late evening gracing her ears, Leni was looking forward to catching up on the last few episodes of Dessert Storm that she had missed. Leni knew that she wouldn't have to worry about her DVR recordings of the show getting erased, a common source of annoyance between siblings who squabbled over DVR superiority, because her siblings had promised her that they would be sure to leave her recordings alone—Leni supposed she could chalk that up to yet another perk of being the "Diva of Desserts", the "Baking Beauty", the "Goddess of Goodies", and the "just plain awesome" girl who was gonna make head turns and mouths drool at the bake sale.

But could she think about her soon-to-be captivated audience later. Right now, she had Dessert Storm in front of her and with her family having already gone to bed, she'd be able to watch her show without interruption.

However, once Leni was fifteen minutes into the first of her recorded episodes, her mood had gone from mildly entertained to deeply pensive. At this point in the season, six competitors were left in the game and right now, they were participating in one of the oldest traditions of the show's eighteen-year history, the "Tiki Tropic Thunder Cake Challenge".

Ordinarily, Leni wouldn't think of that challenge as anything other than a form of entertainment. But now? She saw it as an opportunity for herself.

"Hmmm…now _there's_ an idea," Leni said to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

Lori wasn't one to cancel any scheduled plans for the weekend, but _this_ Saturday was an exception. Today was Leni's big day, and she had promised to not only drop her off at their school a little before three o'clock, just in time for the bake sale, but to stick around for a little bit and buy some of the goodies there for herself, both to give the Fashion Club a helping hand and to satiate her sweet tooth.

Yeah, maybe some key lime pie, a few blueberry muffins, a pecan roll or two, maybe a few…ah, who was she kidding? She was going to go all in on anything with a chocolate theme to it; she'd make sure to buy some chocolate sweets for the whole family, of course, but she'd be keeping most of the haul for herself.

Call it selfish, but what else could one expect from a chocoholic?!

' _Just gotta be sure to keep my stash hidden from the others,'_ Lori thought with a smug grin as she made her way of out of her room, intent on doing more than laying around.

Now that she had about four hours to burn before she had to escort Leni, she figured she'd check on the sister of the hour herself, whom Lori presumed was in the kitchen. It made the most sense, given how the kitchen was practically Leni's favorite room of the entire house as of late.

As she predicted, once she made it to the kitchen, there was Leni, scampering about busily while she hummed to herself. While Lori didn't look around long enough to see exactly what it was she was up to, she figured that she was whipping up something that she intended to sell.

"Last minute addition for the bake sale?" Lori asked, getting Leni to pause in her steps for just a second.

"You bet!" Leni said and got right back to work without a hitch.

Presently, Leni was looking into the fridge and cabinets, pulling out spices and other ingredients that she piled up right next to the sink. While she did so, Lori took the opportunity to get a closer a look at what she was planning to use while she figured that she wouldn't be in Leni's way.

Lori hummed thoughtfully as her eyes scanned the miscellany. "Sugar, flour, coconut shavings, pineapple slices, honey, sugar plums…"

From the looks of things, Leni's aspiration sounded rather…exotic. Lori never recalled tasting a baked delicacy that had coconut shavings and sugar plums in it…

…or the thing that Lori, much to her surprise, found right next to the flour.

"Chili powder?" she asked, but was taken further aback by the oddity that sat right next to the coconut shavings. "And...is that supposed to be a miniature tiki head replica?"

Leni approached her with a bag of lemons, which she plopped down on the ingredient heap. "A what?"

Lori gestured to the decorative ornament. "That."

"Ooooooh, you mean _that_ thingy? Yeah, that's going on top of the cake," Leni said, who was about to sprint off again, until Lori stopped her with another question.

"Cake? What kind of cake?" Lori asked.

A mischievous grin spread across Leni's face, as she leaned next to Lori's ear and whispered, "Sorry, Lori. I can't tell you. I want the Tiki Tropic Thunder cake to be a surprise that no one else knows about until I have it at the bake sale. You'll just have to wait until I'm done."

Lori chuckled as Leni pulled away. "Alright, Leni, if you say…" Just then, realization smacked her over the head like an anvil.

"Say _what_?!" she shrieked as she grabbed Leni by the shoulders. "The Tiki Tropic Thunder cake?!"

Leni gasped in horror. "Lori, how'd you know about that?!"

Before Lori could answer, the thought of the "obvious" culprit flashed through Leni's head, "It was, Walt, wasn't it?!" she accused with seething tone. "I should've known he'd sing like a canary!"

Lori just shook Leni a few times, relentless in her pursuit of her getting her panic across to her as painfully clear as possible.

"Leni, what on Earth do you think you're doing?!" Lori cried.

Leni didn't get the memo, so her reply was way too casual for Lori's liking.

"Well, I guess since the cat's out of the bag, I suppose I can tell you," Leni said before her face exploded in the biggest "I just scored a date with Chaz"-looking smile that Lori had ever seen. "I'm baking the Tiki Tropic Thunder cake for the bake sale! Isn't it great?!"

Lori shook her head violently. "No, Leni! It's the exact _opposite_ of great!"

…

…

"So…astounding, then, right?"

Lori's dread collapsed under the weight of a measured rebuke. "Uh…no. That's a _synonym_ , Leni," Lori corrected.

Leni tapped her chin as she mulled over the possibility. "Hmmmm…I suppose the Tiki Tropic Thunder cake _could_ use some cinnamon."

Urgent distress welled up in Lori at the way the conversation had veered as she started feeling desperate to convey the seriousness of what Leni was attempting to do.

"Forget about the cinnamon and forget about the cake, Leni!" Lori cried. "There's no way you can bake that in time for the bake sale!"

The panicked objection left Leni's nerves unscathed, evident by her reassuring grin.

"Why not? We both love watching bakers try to make it on _Dessert Storm_. It'll be fun," Leni insisted and tried to pull herself away from Lori's tight grasp but failed to do so as she felt her fingers cinching in harder to keep her still.

"Leni, need I remind you that the 'Tiki Tropic Thunder Cake Challenge' is _literally_ impossible?!" Lori reprimanded. "Only three people have ever done it, and the last guy to complete it was in 2002! It's supposed to take about five days to make that cake and those guys, most of which are world-class bakers, only get four hours, which is _less_ time than you have before the sale starts at three o'clock! There is absolutely, positively, _no_ way you can make it in time!"

Leni blinked. _That's_ what got Lori in such a tizzy? Heh, apparently, she didn't know whom it was she was doubting.

"Pssh, it's okay, Lori," Leni insisted with a light chortle, along with a smirk that Lori could only describe as "cocky". "I'm not gonna make it _exactly_ like it's supposed to. It's like Luan said; all I have to do is add my own twist, and I can easily make it before three."

Leni took a moment to use a hand to flip her hair with flair. "Besides, my friends were totes right about me; I'm the 'Goddess of Goodies', the 'Baking Beauty', and the 'Diva of Desserts'. There's no way I can mess this up. So, if you don't mind, I have work to d-"

Before she could finish, she realized that Lori was nodding along with her, convinced by her testimony. Instead, she was hastily taking each of her ingredients, one by one, and putting them back in place.

Leni's blood boiled. "Lori! What're you doing?!" she shouted.

"Keeping you from making a huge mistake!" Lori said as she shelved the peanut butter back in its cabinet before she turned to Leni. "Just stay away from that cake, alright?! Bake something else; literally, _anything_ else! You're just gonna make a huge mess of things if you try! There's no way you can…"

Lori trailed off, almost spellbound by the furious expression that Leni wore now. Lori couldn't remember the last time that she felt browbeaten by her sweet little Leni, making her all the more transfixed by Leni's heated gaze.

Meanwhile, Leni couldn't believe her ears. There it was again; that "can't-do" attitude that Lori had promised to do away with. How _dare_ she resort to that again! How dare she go back on her word and make her feel like a fool for trusting her! How could she do this?! What gave her the right to second-guess her after everything she had done to prove herself?!

But Leni didn't feel the need to ask herself why Lori was doing this; she thought that she had a good inkling as to what it was that was making her act like this.

"You know what? I know exactly what's going on here," Leni said, her anger restrained a fraction. "You're jealous."

Lori's captivation was broken as Leni's words stung her like arrow to the gut. Soon, she found herself scowling right back at Leni.

"Jealous? Of _what_ exactly?" Lori asked, her tone dangerously low.

"Of me," Leni replied. "I'm better than you at baking, and you can't stand it; it's obvious."

The vein in Lori's forehead started to bulge and throb, along the ones in her tightened fists. "Leni, that is the… _stupidest_ thing I've ever heard!" Lori snapped. "I've done nothing but support you ever since I promised to be in your corner!"

Leni's temper flared up again, taking offense to the audacity of such a retort that sounded more like a pathetic attempt at an excuse.

"Oh yeah?!" Leni shouted back. "Then why can't you support me now?! Or are you nothing more than a liar?!"

Leni's scorn fueled Lori's fury, which had escalated towards the brink of vitriol.

"You know what?!" Lori bellowed. "Fine! Make your stupid cake all you like, but you'd better do us both a favor and prove me wrong!"

As Lori stomped away, leaving her Leni behind to brew in her own rage, her entire body quaked and shook with the wrath that had barely been expelled from their argument. Her entire face burned as steamed shot out her nostrils like an eager, furious bull behind the gate.

Then, her ears caught fire, twitching and splotching with the burns that came from Leni's next barrage of searing words.

"Fine, I will and guess what, Lori?!" she could hear Leni yell at the top of her lungs. "I hope you never like eating my sweets again because you're officially banned from them! _Forever_!"

And then, her throat burned as she choked back the sobs that she tried desperately to keep at bay. Her pride only allowed so much control, for by the time she had made it halfway up the stairs, hot streaks of angry tears poured down her face and dripped through the slits of her clenched teeth.

Once she made it to her room and slammed the door shut, the tears only came out that much faster—in the dignified space of her isolation, she allowed herself to lament her grief to the fullest, wondering what she had done to deserve this.

* * *

Lying in bed and staring up at ceiling through her blurry, tear-caked eyes was where Lori found herself around twenty minutes later. Once she had finally been spent on tears and her feelings slowly began to feel less sore, she had been calm and collected enough to do something that, even now, she was beginning to feel some regret for…

She lied. Even after that blunt, painful accusation that Leni had lodged at her, she had only proven her right to an extent; just a few minutes ago, she texted her mother and let her know that she was "coming down with something" and couldn't take Leni to the bake sale, after all. It wasn't true, at least in the context that she knew she was putting out—driving Leni wasn't an issue that some sort of debilitating "sickness" could get in the way of…unless, of course, _heartache_ counted as a crippling illness.

' _Good thing Mom's taking care of her,'_ Lori thought. _'I really don't need this…'_

Call her a coward, but she just couldn't bear being around her now, not with that utter contempt that she was sure that Leni harbored her for swelling through her veins. Lori knew enough about herself to know that she could be a desperate creature when she was backed into a corner, and she knew she'd resort to just about any measure possible to escape those hate-filled eyes—a lie was a small price to pay to achieve that aim.

But even with those words taunting her, chastising her for validating them with her little fib, Lori didn't feel obligated enough to regard them with any more sincerity than her guilt had already done for her; the reason, Leni's horrid supposition, behind those awful words was never even the heart of the matter in the first place.

She _had_ , and still _did_ , supported Leni all this time, much like everyone else in the family had once they saw her coming around to exceeding all their expectations. But Lori was well aware that support wasn't a game of delusion, a self-serving pact where she was supposed to go out of her way to please Leni's ego by telling her what she _wanted_ to hear. She genuinely believed that she had, and probably still was, going about something that was too much for her to handle.

Where was the crime in that, being a sister who cared enough to try and steer a loved one out of a bad situation? And what made it worse was such mordant retaliation came from Leni, of all people, someone who should've known better than to reach to such a vile conclusion right off the bat. Was she such a horrible person that all it took was one little piece of "evidence" to close the book on her like that? Apparently so, since Leni's sense of empathy never came about in their confrontation once.

Suddenly, she started to feel sick to her stomach, the queasy pang of misery submerging her under the violent waves of sorrowful recollection; Leni wasn't just angry with her, she wanted her gone from a part of her life that was all about sharing her love and kindness with others. She was deemed unworthy of that privilege and against her better judgment, Lori clung to the idea that it was all her fault.

Only one thought kept Lori at peace with herself, and it was enough to let her body submit to the tug of sleep that her emotionally-wrecked body surrendered to; if there was something that could be said about Leni, it's that she was always full of surprises.

Maybe, _hopefully_ , Leni would prove her wrong, after all.

* * *

Lori wasn't granted as much rest as she would've liked; she supposed that she didn't have the right to complain about not having that luxury for not only neglecting to silence her phone, which was presently vibrating right next to her ear, but for keeping it in such close proximity.

Though her head was still swimming with fog and her senses were slightly dulled, Lori managed to pick up her phone and hold it up to her face to see who it was that was calling her. Once she did, she realized a few things.

According to the time on the phone's touchscreen, it was a few minutes passed four o'clock, meaning that she had been out of it for roughly five hours. The radiant yellow-orange beams of the afternoon Sun, shining though her window and blanketing her room in its warm hue, confirmed her phone's report.

The last observation, which inspired her to answer the phone, was that the Caller ID notified her that the caller was Trish, a friend of hers. She wasn't what Lori would call a _close_ friend, but a friend was still a friend, and she needed one in the worst way right now; it wasn't as if such a venomous quarrel with Leni could be easily forgotten.

"Hey, Trish, what's…" Lori began to say until a yawn broke through her sentence, "…what's up?"

…

…

"Wait, what?"

…

…

"Trish, calm down. Slow down for a…"

…

…

" _What_?! Are you serious?! When did y-"

…

…

"I'll be right there! Don't lose sight of her!"

With breakneck speed, Lori cut the call, rolled out of bed, and ran out of her room as fast as she could, not forgetting to take her car keys first. As her body and brain flooded with panic, she could only hope that she could get to her school before it was too late to make a difference.

Leni needed help, and Lori knew she couldn't afford to be slow as she raced against time.

* * *

" _Yeah, I'm at the bake sale right now, and I saw her run off to the girls' bathroom; the one in the hallway that's next to the gym on the first floor! I just thought I'd let you know!"_

That was the last thing Lori heard from Trish before she hastily hung up the phone and drove as fast as she could (within the legal speed limit) to her school. Though cars, signs, and familiar landmarks flashed by, the thought of Leni, crying her eyes out and feeling lost, stuck with Lori. She only had a vague idea of the shame and defeat that Leni was going through right now, given how brief Trish's account of what she had seen, but it still stirred more than enough sympathy—to the point where every second she couldn't see Leni might as well have been an entire day of agony.

It was made all the more agonizing but the fact that Lori had a plan, a lifeline that could very well bring Leni out of her despair, but it means nothing unless she can get to her soon.

To Lori's relief, the school's parking lot was fairly empty, meaning that she had no trouble finding a spot that was close to front of the main entrance. Upon doing so, Lori bolted out of the van, speeding past a few loitering students and faculty that were hanging around by the front doors. The memory of the rules and regulations, specifically those pertaining to hallway conduct, were insignificant to her; she had to get to Leni at all costs.

"Leni?!" Lori called, doing so more out of desperation than practicality; it wasn't as if she didn't have a good idea where Leni should've been. " _Leniiiiiiiii?!_ "

After about twenty seconds, her body was already taxed and burdened with exhaustion as her steps grew heavy, her face became splotched with droplets of sweat, her breath grew labored, and her heart pounded out of exertion and dismay. Her teeth grit as a jolt of pain shoots through her side and settles in her waist, and her legs begin to feel like brittle pretzel sticks that are ready to snap at any moment's notice.

She ignored it _all_ for Leni's sake, for the sake of a sister that she would rather see with her head help up high while resenting her than hearing, let alone _seeing_ , the idea that she was broken up and without a way out.

"Le-"

She cut off the call as her tired body stumbled towards the wall, skidding to a stop—there was no need for it anymore because lo and behold, there was the bathroom…

And there were the sound of…sobbing, _Leni's_ sobbing, coming from the other side of the door. Though her body felt worn out, it's all but negligible to the way Lori's heart shattered at the excruciating wails that lance through her ears and embed in her brain.

She pushed her body forward, cramps and all, and swung the door open with all her might. Without the blockade of the door dampening the noise, Lori can clearly hear the _echo_ of sobbing coming from one of the stalls. She doesn't consider the possibility of running into an embarrassing situation from pulling back on the stall door, too engrossed with getting to her sister and holding her in her arms.

Before she could approach the door, however, the crying regressed into sniffles and whimpers—Lori took it that Leni finally had the wherewithal to notice that someone had barged into her sanctuary, uninvited. But she was prepared to face any rebukes she'd face from her intrusion because she never needed an invitation to comfort her family before and she wasn't about to need one now.

Without a second thought, Lori opened the door and instantly locked eyes with Leni, who was sitting on the floor, her knees bunched into her chest as she held them within her arms. Lori's chest constricted, throbs of misery pulsating as she saw Leni's beautiful, blue eyes drowning in her unshed tears.

"Oh, Leni," Lori said as she bent down to Leni's level, wrapped her up in a hug, and pressed her face against the top of her head.

And just like that, Leni's waterworks started up again and Lori's worries about Leni pushing her away disintegrated as Leni pushed herself closer and allowed to Lori to stroke her head.

"It's okay, Leni. I'm here now," Lori cooed softly. "I heard what happened, and I'm telling you that it's okay now; I'm here for you."

Though Lori was almost certain that Leni didn't believe a word of what she had said about things being "okay", she was at least appreciative of the fact that Leni still held her close, as if her anger towards her was all but a distant memory to her right now.

"I should've known," Leni sobbed into the Lori's shoulder.

Lori, not expecting for Leni to open up to her so quickly, was slow to ask, "Known…what?"

"That I…" Leni sniffled, cutting herself off before she could finish, "…that I messed up."

And that was when it all started; Lori held onto every word as she listened to Leni delineate what she had missed after she had stormed away from the kitchen…

* * *

 _Leni never thought she'd be in a place like this again_ _—_ _it wasn't as bad as what Luan had stumbled across a few months ago, but the kitchen was once again, a battlefield wrought by Leni's culinary shortcomings. While most of the room was immaculately spotless, Leni's workplace was anything but and Leni, who was slumped against the refrigerator with her head slumped, was blotched from head to toe in an array of ingredient-based stains._

 _The baking process had fallen apart before Leni had a chance to begin, the difficulty of her task blindsiding her and shaking her confidence to the core. Leni assumed that the Tiki Tropic Thunder cake could be compromised with a few of her own signatures touches, but what was absolutely paramount and essential, the trademark of the dessert, were its air-filled layers. Much like a soufflé, Leni had to be sure to make sure that the egg whites were beaten with precisely the correct number of strokes and the proper amount of force behind each stroke_ _—_ _as Leni found out, if she was either too soft or too hard with her strokes, the baked layer would collapse in under a minute._

 _And that was only the beginning of her troubles; not only did the layers, which the recipe called for six, have to be air-filled, but each layer had to be decorated with an assortment of the cake's toppings, some of which Leni didn't even have. Those compromises, such as the sugar plums, only spelt out disaster_ _—_ _as Leni found out with the only two layers that she was successful in baking, and just barely, because of the air-filled center, precision and dexterity were the key to making sure that the alignment of the decorations didn't make the layer collapse from the added weight. Needless to say, Leni failed to make "adding her own twist" work as she was met with two failures, both of which only whipped up her actions into a hurried rush…_

 _And when Leni rushed, she only made more and more costly missteps, her frustration and her frantic eagerness to finish in time blinding her to the amateur pitfalls that she had learned to avoid long ago—forgetting ingredients for the batter, clumsily handling the whisk, setting the temperature at the wrong degree, running around frantically under stress…it all made what was supposed to be Leni's dream into a living nightmare._

" _Maybe Lori was right, after all," Leni said. "Maybe I should just…"_

 _But just before she could finish her sentence, the mental image of Lori, a heinously boastful Lori at that, taunting her with a barrage of "I told you so!" and "In your face!" as she mocked her, laughed at her for daring to oppose her wisdom, even after she had done so much to prove her wrong. It did the trick into making Leni riled up, angered that she was forced into such a state of vulnerability after everything that she had gone through and that it would soon be followed up with Lori doing her part to rub salt in the wound._

" _Lori," she hissed, her eyes narrowed in icy slits. "What does she know about baking? She couldn't crack an egg if her life depended on it. Who is she to tell me that I can't bake a cake?"_

 _She pumped herself up further with the knowledge that it had only been an hour since she started trying to bake—she could get this done with another three! She was better than this, moping on the floor like some…some…greenhorn without a clue! She wouldn't be given such high marks from her peers, her neighbors, and her family if she still were!_

' _I'll show her!' Leni thought as she rose to her feet. 'This cake will blow everyone away! I don't need anything else!'_

* * *

And what followed after that was Leni explaining everything else, everything that led up to where they were now. In the end, Leni's cake wasn't anywhere close to the way she wanted it to be but rather than just admit defeat, she tried to make her deflated, deformed cake look as presentable as possible by hastily slapping on some frosting and toppings and calling it a day. She had hoped that it would be enough to both satiate her pride and the customers, but it satisfied neither in the end. A few customers, who were unfortunate to try Leni's advertised "exotic, daring" cake, were treated to a bad taste in their mouths and massive stomach cramps.

Since Leni was considered the club's crown jewel for the event, her table was placed in the middle of the first floor's gymnasium—the room where the sale was hosted—for all to see Leni's customers groaning in pain. Such a horror caused some of the other patrons to deny the delicacies from the other tables, leaving the sale altogether.

Trish, who was around at the time, was in close enough range to hear what Leni had to say next; the bake sale's coordinator and a few Fashion Club students pulled Leni off to the side and told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was banned from participation because of her actions—that, of course, led to her fleeing the gym in tears.

Even though Leni had recalled everything without falling back into another crying fit, Lori couldn't keep herself from shedding some tears of her own. She was already familiar with mostly everything that Leni had told her, so those parts didn't make her emotional. What _did_ , however, was what she didn't know right off the bat; Leni's motivation for her actions in the first place.

Once again, Leni was set on proving herself…because of _her_. She took risks and paid the price, and it was all because proving Lori wrong was her objective. Lori knew it was irrational to believe that she was an all-powerful puppeteer, someone who could completely control Leni's actions and drive her reach this low point, but the fact that she was the motivation for her not to care about making people happy—just like she always wanted to do with her baking in the first place—and focus only on being a hit, just to spite her, did nothing to comfort her guilt.

' _Why am I so…so toxic?'_

"Umm…a-are you alright?" Lori asked, doing so to stop herself from selfishly self-loathing when it was _Leni_ that needed to be at ease.

"No," Leni replied without hesitation, her tone wavering. "The Fashion Club hates me, and we probably won't get enough money to reach our goal, since I scared a ton of the customers away. And worst of all, I was horrible to you. I bit off more than I could chew, even after you warned me."

Lori sighed. "Leni, it's ok-"

"No, it's not," Leni interrupted firmly. "I shouldn't have called you a jealous liar. That was mean and unfair."

"Look, I get that, Leni, but-"

"What's the point of being a good baker if I'm just going to be a horrible sister?!" Leni cried. "I jus-"

"Enough!"

Lori was already acquainted with the price of her rashness as Leni looked back at her, wounded and a little spooked from Lori raising her voice the way she did. Still, Lori knew that it had to be done—it was bad enough that _she_ was riddled with an overabundance of shame but even though Leni had dug her own grave, she didn't need to take it that far.

"Leni, enough of that, please," Lori pleaded. "Yes, you made a big mistake, but there are three things you ought to know."

Lori allowed silence to reign for about a minute to allow Leni to compose herself before she continued.

"I forgive you. How could I not? As far as I'm concerned, you put up with me _way_ more than I put up with you."

Though she never let go of Leni this whole time, Lori couldn't help but feel as though they were still a little cold and distant, as if their close hug wasn't enough—that only told her that they had a lot of quality time to spend together after this was all over.

"And you are far from a horrible sister, you hear? _Far_ from it. You wouldn't be my best friend if you were," Lori said.

Slowly but surely, a tiny smile began to form on Leni's face, and it was the little gesture that pushed Lori into showing her full hand without any lingering doubts—even if _it_ was a shot in the dark, she couldn't allow herself to believe that unfavorable odds were something that should prevent her from giving her all in brightening up Leni's world.

"And as for the last thing? You're gonna love this," Lori said with a confident smile. "I've think I've got a way to make things better."

Leni's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?! You do?!" she exclaimed with joyous abandon.

Before Lori could get a chance to stand and help Leni up—she was just starting to realize how they had both been sprawled out on the icky bathroom floor all this time—but Leni clinched on a hug of her own, preventing her from moving around too much.

Not that Lori minded; _this_ was the type of reaction that she hoped that Leni would have.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Leni cried, nestling her face in the crook of her neck.

"Hey, don't thank _just_ me," Lori said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "If it wasn't for Trish tipping me off to what happened, I wouldn't have known what to do before I got here."

"Wait…" Leni's ecstatic squealing stopped as she allowed Lori's statement to settle, "…you mean the Trish with that really big mole on her nose that we don't stare at out of politeness?"

Lori laughed. "No, no, you're thinking of Trish Summers. I'm talking about Trish Everett."

"Ah."

…

…

"Lori?"

"Hmm?"

Though Leni looked like she was still delighted with the good news of Lori's plan, she still couldn't help but ask, "You're sure your plan will work?"

"Yep. You wanna know how I know that?" Lori lightly bopped Leni on the nose, eliciting a giggle. "Because _you're_ the reason it will."

* * *

Things were going a little easier than Lori thought they would. According to Leni, the supervisor of the bake sale and the Fashion Club's sponsor, Mr. Myers, would be hanging around inside the gymnasium, making sure that everything was running smoothly. Since Lori's plan involved approaching him with Leni in tow, she wasn't sure if she could do so without making a scene by bringing "unauthorized" personnel back to the place where they were banned.

Fortunately, she didn't have to worry about creating bedlam, because once they came to the gym's entrance, they could see Mr. Myers sitting behind a table, studiously peering over some papers of importance that Lori didn't care to figure out for herself.

' _Yeah, that's him already,'_ Lori thought, casting the wiry man judgmental glare as the duo walked over to him.

Leni's description was quite accurate; his state of overdress (seriously, who wears a gray suit for a bake sale?) was quite easy to spot, along with the combover that failed to cover his bald spot.

"Excuse me," Lori said as they reached the table.

The man looked up, looking indifferent to the greeting. Leni stood behind Lori, peering over her shoulder—even after Lori insisted that everything would be fine, Leni couldn't help but regard her mentor with trepidation after their last encounter.

"Are you Mr. Myers?" Lori asked out of formality.

"The one and only," came the overly posh-sounding reply.

"And I take it you're supervising the Fashion Club's bake sale?"

"Indeed," Mr. Myers replied, casting Leni a disparaging look. "And I take it that the young lady behind you has already informed you that I've already told her not to come back here, correct?"

Lori had to bite her tongue from giving the supercilious man a piece of her mind, though that didn't stop her from shooting a quick frown at him before it dissolved into a friendly smile.

"Yeah, but forget about her for a minute," Lori said as she reached into her pocket. "I just wanna know something first."

Mr. Myers quirked an eyebrow. "And that is?"

Lori fished out a plastic bag and waved it and its contents in Mr. Myers face. "Want a cookie?"

Mr. Myers just glared at the proffered treat with incredulity, humming tentatively.

"It's oatmeal _raisiiiiiiiin_ ," Lori sang enticingly.

For whatever reason, that did the trick to get the skeptic to snatch the bag away and zip it open; apparently, Mr. Myers had a soft spot for _something_ that didn't involve gaudily dressing himself.

Leni looked on, confused but intrigued as to where Lori was going with this. She wasn't forthcoming with the details on what she had planned, but Leni still trusted that this was going to play out in their favor.

If the plan involved getting Mr. Myers to think that the cookie that he just took a small bite of was one of the best things he ever tasted, by the look of astonishment on his face, it had worked like a charm. After his itty-bitty nibble, the man looked at the cookie as if it was a precious gemstone.

"Goodness, this is…incredible!" Mr. Myers exclaimed. "Such a marvel! The tartness of the raisin compliments the dull sweetness of the cookie splendidly! And the cookie itself is neither hard enough to be uncomfortable against my teeth nor soft enough to render it a soggy, mushy mess!"

He got up from his chair and came up to Lori, jittering with euphoria.

"Young lady, where did you get this?! If you have more, you _must_ sell these at our bake sale! It'd mean so much to me if you did!"

Lori chuckled, a wry grin taking shape. "Oh, believe me, I have more," she said, "but I can't be the one who sells them. After all, _I_ didn't bake them."

Then, in a move that Leni didn't expect, Lori pulled her up to her side, pressing her close in a side hug as she pointed at her with her other hand. " _She_ did."

While both Leni and Mr. Myers were stricken stupefied by the declaration, Lori pulled out her phone and held it up to the Fashion Club's sponsor's face, a move that made his eyes sparkle at the picture that the phone presented to him.

The interior of Vanzilla was never anything to write home about, but the cargo that she carried was a sight to behold—the photo revealed the multiple baskets, trays, and plastic containers that lined up the back seats, front passenger seat, and trunk of the van. In those containers was an assemblage of the baked delicacies that Leni had made for the bake sale, treats that she had purposefully left behind for the sake of her putrid cake.

"As you can see, I've got a van full of her baked goodies," Lori said. "And I'm sure Leni would be more than happy to sell all of them and be recognized for her hard work."

And just like that, Lori shuffled the phone back into her pocket, much to Mr. Myers disappointment.

"That is, if a certain Fashion Club sponsor would let my sweet little sister back in the bake sale," Lori said as she looked at her nails in disinterest, hoping her nonchalance would urge him to play into her hands.

Mr. Myers looked to Leni, doing so with awe that Leni wasn't used to seeing from him.

"Leni, is this true? Did you bake all of those sweets yourself?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," Leni replied, feeling shame as her destructive behavior returned to the forefront of her mind. "The only reason I brought that nasty cake over was because I was trying too hard to impress everyone and stick it to Lori. I almost ruined the sale for everyone, and I'm so sorry that I-"

"Oh, that's water under the bridge now," Mr. Myers interrupted eagerly. "There's no _way_ I can turn away such an offer. Just let me inform the others first, and I'm sure they'll try and make a spot for you at one of their tables."

And with that, he left the sisters alone as he went to do just that. Leni couldn't bottle down the rejoicing that boiled in her belly, and she jumped up and ensnared Lori in the world's biggest sister hug. Mercifully, Lori was strong enough to hold her, despite the little pangs of soreness that her body was racked with from her scampering about earlier.

"It worked! It worked!" Leni cheered.

"I told you it would, didn't I?" Lori asked, letting her heartfelt smile persist as her sister swayed around and giggled.

"I still can't believe you managed to do this for me," Leni said after she calmed down a little. "It's, like, too good to be true."

Lori shook her head. "No, Leni, _you_ made this happen. You just needed a second chance. And if there's anyone I know who deserves one the most, it's you."

At this point, Leni's voice was too choked up with emotion to express her gratitude, so she did what her body allowed her to do and shed tears of elation at how one of the darkest hours of her life turned into occasion for celebration.

And even though Lori insisted that she was responsible for this turn of events, she couldn't live with herself if she didn't give any credit to her big, protective sister.

* * *

Leni never thought that shopping for ingredients would be so much fun with a partner, but Lori had proven herself to be a worthwhile commodity. Maybe it was Lori's usual contributions to juicy conversation that endeared Leni to the dynamic or perhaps, it came from the thrill of "leading the charge", so to speak—she couldn't remember the last time where Lori followed _her_ lead, trusting _her_ guidance and relying on _her_ instincts to see the both of them through.

Whichever way it was, Leni didn't care; she was with Lori and that's all that mattered.

The hour-long trip to and from the grocery store concluded with the girls setting their bags on the kitchen counter. As promised, Lori took it upon herself to help Leni with a new batch of cookies that she thought would taste wonderful.

She didn't know what to call them yet—or even have a grasp of all the ingredients that would make her visionary concoction work—but apparently, Lori didn't mind; she just wanted to see her "little genius of a sister" work her magic and be part of the fun that came with experimenting.

"So, what'd you think, Leni?" Lori asked, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out two plastic bags of nuts. "Macadamia or walnuts?"

"Macadamia," Leni said. "Mr. Grouse is allergic to walnuts, and I'm planning on giving some of the cookies to him later."

Lori beamed at the noble thought. "That's mighty thoughtful of you. Alrighty then, macadamia it is."

What followed was minutes of silence, the sisters prepping up their "workstation" as fast as they could. Their father would need the kitchen to himself in a few hours for dinner, and even with Leni's position as a "culinary contributor", she wasn't a peg above "the man of the house" or his responsibilities.

Whether she wanted it or not, the silence of their collusion allowed Leni to meditate on what had happened yesterday, in this very kitchen, no less. Her belligerence and arrogance nearly cost her the cherished relationship that she and Lori had forged over a decade-plus of the ups and downs of sisterhood and the triumphs and good memories of a treasured friendship…

And yet Lori forgave her and allowed her to have a chance to shine at the bake sale—no motivation other than to help her little sister and show that the water was indeed under the bridge.

But if there was anything that _wasn't_ under the bridge, something to be tucked away to be forgotten, it was the joyous report that her Fashion Club friends had told her a few hours ago over the phone. She never thought to relay the good news to Lori, but now was as good of a time as ever to do just that.

"Hey, Lori?" Leni said, after walking away from the preheated oven to head towards the fridge.

"What's up?" Lori called, washing a big, white bowl in the sink.

She turned the water off and paid Leni her undivided attention to hear her next words as clearly as possible.

"Thanks again for helping me out at the bake sale," Leni said, opening the fridge and surveying its innards. "We shot over our goal of a thousand dollars."

Now…where was it? Butter…butter…bu- _ah_! There it was; hiding between the milk carton and the bag of carrots. Think you can hide from Leni's eyes, eh? Fat chance!

Lori waved off the bestowed credit as she watched Leni retrieve a stick of butter. "Eh, what're big sisters for? And really, it's not like I did _that_ much. If it wasn't for your leftovers, I wouldn't have been able to do much of anything. And even if I don't know for sure, I'm certain it was _your_ baking that raked in most of the cash."

Leni couldn't help but bashfully grin as Lori's words recalled her to the night before. Mr. Myers and her friends had said that much, though Leni was insistent on bringing up the fact that it was a team effort that saved the day.

Still, it wasn't a crime to relish in the glow of such praise for just a _little bit_ , especially now that she was extra vigilant about keeping her ego in check.

"I mean, yeah," Leni said, placing the butter next to the stock of ingredients that she already had in mind to use, "but it was still really sweet of you to do what you did, even after I acted like such a jerk."

Her mood was quickly brought down at the mention of her fall from grace. She had worn an awful pair of meanie pants, a fashion decision that she swore she would do her best to never indulge in again, especially to the ones she loved.

"Hey, Leni?" Leni didn't bother to turn around until Lori's next words followed her question. "Speaking of sweet…"

 _*splat*_

After she squeaked in surprise, Leni froze—her eyes shut but her other senses kicking into high gear.

She could _feel_ the warm, oozing texture smeared across her cheek.

She could _smell_ wafts of vanilla drifting into her nostrils, though the odor was faint.

Those clues didn't tell her enough, so Leni set out to do the only suitable course of action and open her eyes. Once she did, she could _see_ a smirking Lori, brandishing a tube of white frosting in her outstretched hand.

"Oops," Lori said, her wily eyebrows arched in a teasing fashion. "My fingers must've slipped."

Leni gave her a puzzled frown. Since when did fingers slip? _People_ slipped, sure, but fingers? And what was up with her voice? Instead of the firm yet tender tone she had come to both love and respect, it wavered with a timbre that Leni didn't often hear from her, unless she was…

Leni cracked a naughty grin of her own, her eyes squinted challengingly; _now_ she understood. "You're gonna pay for that," she declared with gusto, her intentions broadcasted loud and clear as she looked back at the assortment of ingredients next to her.

"Oh? Am I?" Lori asked, drawing her "weapon" back to her side in anticipation for Leni's next move.

Said next move happened in the blink of an eye, and Lori was barely able to dodge the oncoming jet of blue frosting from Leni's own tube of ammunition.

"Yeah!" Leni cried and charged forward while squirting another round at her giggling sister, whose reflexes proved to be too slow this time around, and she paid the price with a blast of frosting splattering the front of her tank top.

The joust between the two sisters continued to be a delightful affair, though the kitchen was beginning to resemble a Pollock painting with the streams of blue and white decorating every corner that didn't hit a combatant. But between the dodging, and firing, Leni could only think about one other thing; the atmosphere was brimming with the laughter and cheeriness that she had wanted to inspire with her baking all along.

And the fact that she got to do it with Lori was the…well, _frosting_ on the cake.

* * *

 **A/N:** My portrayal of Leni, during her "mean" moments, might be what one calls…OOC. Of course, OOCness isn't exactly, well, _new_ to TLH fanfics, but I might've walked a thin tightrope that very few people have done before and that's because most people wouldn't think that it was possible for Leni Loud to ever be arrogant or cocky. Still, I wasn't going to let her status as the fandom's "cinnamon roll" keep me from writing her as an infallible character who's incapable of having faults. That, of course, doesn't mean that every immoral fault is up for grabs (you have to consider the character and whether the gloves fits or not), but I don't think I was writing too far out of her range to be believable.

Still, that's ultimately for you, the reader, to decide for yourselves. Whether you agree with me or not, I'm interested in hearing what you have to say.


End file.
